Morty
by heatherjwood
Summary: Todd finds himself an unlikely victim of one of forges latest experiments, and now has to learn to deal with it- because this particular experiment isn't one that can just be 'fixed'.
1. Prologue

**

Morty

**  
_By Maikafuiniel___

* * *

**Prologue**  
_No matter how great and destructive your problems may seem now, remember, you've probably only seen the tip of them. _

Forge stood quietly at the end of his work bench, trying to understand just what had gone wrong with his latest project. He couldn't understand it… everything was correct! Every formula perfect! Every mechanical bit and piece perfectly aligned and fitted to match with everything else. There was simply no way that it could possibly not work. 

Or so he had thought. When belief and fact hit each other though, there really is only one option. With a grouchy groan, Forge picked up one of the formula bottles that he had left on the table. This was it… the one that had messed everything else. It had been exactly the same as any other formula, but this was the one that wouldn't work. And if one bottle didn't work, he couldn't use the others without knowing that something was going to go wrong. 

He couldn't let that happen. Not after the whole charade with the alternate dimensions, and having Kurt get mixed up in it all. He couldn't let anything go wrong this time… he wanted to have it all right. He wanted to be able to go up to the others, show them, and be proud in his knowledge that it was all good, working material. 

Taking a rod and placing it in the clear liquid, he gave it another quick mixing. He knew it wouldn't do any good, but it gave him something to do with his hands while he thought about what the problem could be. With a pull he brought the experiment back to mind, and went back to the beginning. 

"Alright," he muttered to himself, "Simple. Plan was to create a mixture of which would age me accordingly to what I would have been had I not been trapped in the dimension, so that I could go back to my family without them thinking I was some sort of deranged lunatic. Everything was going alright until the hydro-carbons mixed with tricolbaltchlorine. So, simple answer, something was wrong with the tricolbaltchlorine. But I've checked that," he answered himself with a growl, "There was nothing wrong with it. So next obvious answer, something was wrong with the connection. But both are chemically compatible, so that makes no sense…" 

He rolled his shoulders, trying to calm himself and get rid of the rising ache in his shoulders. "It should work, but it doesn't on the mice. So there's something wrong with the mice? But I know they're in peak physical condition, so it's the connection _there_. It was made for humans though, so obviously there has to be room left there for that." 

He stopped for a moment, and rubbed his face with his hands. His eyelids were falling on their own accord by this point, and he knew that he had to get some sleep. But he had been so sure. So positive that tonight would be the night he could finally go home. Finally see his family. Finally, after all those wasted years, he could make something of himself again. He could have a chance at a real life… 

But it wasn't going to work, not on the mice. "What I need," he said to himself quietly, "Is a test subject. Somebody who isn't me so that I'm there if something goes wrong." 

He shook his head at the thought though. "No… that's not right. I need more then that. I need a mutant test subject so that I can factor in the X-Gene. Using it on a human would likely give the same result as using it on a mouse. Nothing. But I can't just use it on any of the X-Men," he continued, "No. That wouldn't work at all. The professor would never let me, and this is supposed to be a surprise anyway." 

He sat there for another moment, trying to pull his thoughts together, when suddenly his head shot up. "Alright then… they won't notice. Hell, if it works I'll explain it to them, and if it doesn't then nothing lost, right? And they won't go the professor…" 

Grabbing the bottle of formula, he put a tight lid on it and stood up. Tonight he was going to pay a visit to the Brotherhood Boarding House, and see just what was up.

* * *

Toad lay back on the chesterfield in the living room, trying to ignore the sounds of a fist fight coming from the kitchen. Obviously Lance and Pietro had gone at it again, and they would both be sprouting new bruises in the morning. That was, of course, on the condition that Pietro didn't manage to set off Lance to such a degree that he would bring the house down and kill them all. 

Freddy, he knew, had gone out hours ago with Mystique to shop for groceries. She was the one with the money, and Freddy was the one who knew exactly what they would need and why, seeing as he kept such a close eye on the fridge. Normally they would have been back hours ago, but Toad had long since noticed that when they left they tended to be gone for a while. It seemed he wasn't the only one who was getting tired of living in this house… 

Lance was always angry. Always recently fired from some new job where he had gotten fired for causing arguments or telling off the customers, and always recently broken up with some new girl. It was obvious to anyone who had to live with the demented teen that he was head over heels in love with Kitty Pryde of the X-Geeks, but he would never admit it. He would never let himself be happy if it meant loving one of them. 

Likewise Pietro was just fed up with everything. Fed up with the smell, lack of food, look of hygine, and more. He was used to the high life, and now was forced to live in the constant fear the somebody, somewhere, was going to come after him because of the way he was born. Had to live in the constant fear that his own sister was going to rip his spinal cord right out of him. 

Toad smiled at the thought of her. He had only met her once to date, and it had been far from a good meeting, but he had found himself thoroughly obsessed with the gothic girl. She was just so… her. That was the only way he could put it. The way she spoke, the way she dressed, the way she acted. It was all Wanda, and it flowed out of her in a way that made him want to do anything, if only she would ask. 

And so the Brotherhood was falling apart. He liked to think that he was the only person left who was immune to the feelings of anger and hate that seemed to flow through this house as if a faucet had been left on, but he knew it was the opposite. He hated it here. He hated them. He hated the way they felt about each other. When it had been just him and Mystique everything had been alright, but since Lance moved in, then Freddy and Pietro, it was one big powder-keg ready to go off at any moment. 

This wasn't a home. It wasn't a family. It was a bunch of delinquents forced together and teaching each other how to be all the worse; and it was obvious to anybody who found themselves on the outside just what was happening. 

He sighed deeply, and tried to bury himself further into the couch to get warm. 

He had been feeling sick lately, with some sort of flu bug going around and effecting all the mutants in Bayville. It had hit almost 95% of the mutant population in the first week, and he was sure he had gotten out of the time without getting sick, but just as everyone else was getting better it hit him- hard. 

He couldn't get out of bed without feeling as though he were going to topple over, and he didn't even have the strength to shoot out his tongue at that one fly that had made a habit of flying near the ceiling in lazy circles; he could see it in the corner of his eye and knew that all he had to do was grab it… But he didn't bother. In his state it felt as though nothing was worth it at all, let alone making all that effort of having his tongue go across a room before a fly had noticed. 

When he heard a loud snap from the kitchen he knew that there was going to be a very mad Mystique when she came home. It sounded as though the table had been broken right in half by somebody landing on it. He sighed and attempted to concentrate on the television instead. It was a discovery channel program about the lives of poison frogs… 

"I should be so lucky, yo," he commented quietly as he turned up the volume of the program, drowning out the sounds of the other boys. 

It wasn't too long though before the heard the sound of not one but two doors slamming. Pietro had gone back to his room to try and rebuild his ego before going out for a night on the town to get rid of the stress carried over from the fight, as he did so constantly these days, and Lance had stormed out of the house to take out his anger on some unlucky lake or empty field where he wouldn't be noticed using his powers. The sound of an engine could be heard in the distance, and Toad knew that at least for a while he was safe. When Lance came home he would just fake sleep… 

But with that thought he shook his head slowly. Why fake sleep at all when he was so tired and feeling sick anyway? 

Taking the remote control in his hand he turned the television off and settled down in the couch for a nap. Maybe he would even feel better when he woke up, though somehow he doubted it.

* * *

Forge sat quietly in the bushes, not knowing just how he was going to get his formula into the building at all, let alone get one of the untrusting Brotherhood boys to drink it without questioning what it was. 

He waited outside the front door in the bushes for a good hour before suddenly the door swung open. He ducked behind the bushes quickly, and watched as a clearly enraged Avalanche stomped through the frame and towards his car. Less then five minutes later Quicksilver came tearing out of the building, and though he couldn't catch quite where the quick mutant was headed, it was obvious he wanted out of the house. 

He waited again for another five moments, before realizing that the house was dead silent otherwise. Could the other members already be out? Could he be so lucky? 

He could see the door hanging open just a little… just enough so that he could see into the open boot closet where it was obvious that the only pair of shoes left there were a pair of green and stained white runners. 

He shook his head in disgust. Todd "Toad" Tolansky was evidently still at home. Though he could totally believe that the boy had no social life, it made his job all the more difficult. He would have to go in there with a hyper mutant that could stick to walls bounding around and following him. 

He wondered for a moment if maybe the boy would be in his room, doing whatever it was when he was alone, and carefully pushed the door open just a little more- cringing when he heard the creaking from the old and worn hinges. 

Not seeing anybody come running at the sound he took a single step in, careful not to let the floor creek under his surprisingly heavy body. He cursed himself for his stupidity, but knew that he needed to have this formula tested- and soon. He couldn't wait anymore. No, he needed this. He needed to make sure it worked. 

Still nobody came running to the door and so he took one more step in, and then another, and another. He was sure by that point that the young mutant would still be in his room by this point, but then as he passed the living room he noticed a lump on the chesterfield. He snapped back and immediately hid behind a wall, trying to cover up the sound of his breathing. He stayed like that for a moment before he realized that Toad was asleep. 

The flu, he knew, had gone around the institute quite badly but he didn't know that the Brotherhood had been suffering from it as well. It was obvious that they were though, not only from the even more then average stench coming from the boy, but the paper bags that were stacked at hand length in case of emergency. 

With a shrug he remembered his own time dealing with the flu, and knew that Toad would be quite out of it for a while to come. He wouldn't have to worry about him waking up unless somebody made an intensive effort to do so. 

Without so much caution as before he ran for where he knew the kitchen would be located in this building, and began to search through the cupboard, ignoring the broken kitchen table in the middle of the room. When he finally found a clean cup that wasn't broken or otherwise mutilated he slowly and carefully put half of the formula into it. 

The rest he would need for himself if it worked, or to study if it didn't. 

He knew that this was the type of home where very little was wasted, and carefully set the cup inside the fridge. Somebody would drink it eventually… 

He was about to go back to the front door when he heard it opening from the kitchen. There was two voices he recognized as Mystique and Blob. He gasped and quickly made his way for the back door, knowing that there was no other way he was going to get out of the house. 

Finally out, and knowing he had gotten out with only moments to spare, he sighed deeply and fell again into the bushes. It had to be around midnight by now, and everything hurt. He was tired, but emotionally and physically. He would go home, and in the morning… maybe everything would be better. 

Without another though to it, Forge left. 

_It's said that when a man changes somebody's life in an extreme way, they will always know, and the memory of it will follow them forever. It is also said that every decision we make, whether it be a step back instead of forward, will change our entire destiny._


	2. 1st Chapter

**

Morty

**   
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

**Chapter 1**   
_That which does not kill me postpones the inevitable. _

Mystique stepped through the doorway of her so called 'home' with a slight sneer. Everything smelled, though she knew that it was too be expected considering that fact that the boy whom never showered anyway was sick beyond exclamation. It wasn't a pretty thought, and it meant she would be spending more time then usual out of the house (though this wasn't something that was necessarily bad). 

Behind her stood Freddy Dukes, who she had brought on the grocery trip. He carried twelve bags at once, each filled with far more food then they could afford, but really when it all came down to it, it wasn't as though they had paid as much as they should have. They were terrorists after all, and it seemed that being so came with certain perks. 

At least, they did if you could make yourself look like the store manager and walk out of the building with nobody even giving you a second glance. 

Walking into the house she could see into the living room. She saw Toad laying sprawled out on the couch, shivering. He was obviously cold, but since he already had three separate quilts on top of him there wasn't much else she could do but hope he got better soon. It hurt to look at him, the poor boy, lost in a fever that was taking more then its toll on him. It hit him harder then anybody else in fact, though she knew he would never admit it. But then, these flues and colds always did. 

The plain and simple fact was that he wasn't normal, not even for a mutant. He had an incredible resistance to illness, but when something managed to get passed all of his immunities it would get him harder then anybody else. It didn't help that he took after a summer animal and winter was coming either. Sometimes it seemed to her like he was going out of his way to be difficult, but when she saw him like this- sick, smelly (more so then usual), and weak, she just wanted to mother him. 

It made _her_ sick. 

"No," she said quietly to herself, "Can't do that. Do have a reputation to remain after all…" 

She stood there for too long however, when it became obvious that Freddy was getting restles of waiting for her to move so that he could pass her with all of the groceries and get into the kitchen. "Hey Mystique," the Blob said loudly, "Move it before my arms fall off, will ya?" 

"Shut up you lout." she said shortly, while giving him a stony look, "Toad is fast asleep and if wakes up we're never going to hear the end of it. So keep your trap shut and let him get some sleep. The sooner he wakes up the sooner we can go against the X-Men with a full team again." 

Freddy shrugged and pushed past her, ignoring the extra mean look he was passed by her. "Get those put away quickly," she said as a parting shot as he lumbered away, "If I come in there in thirty minutes and you've eaten your way through those bags, you're going to be sorry. And, as a matter of fact, dirt poor." 

Freddy rolled his eyes towards the sky as he continued onwards, knowing that she was right to warn him. He knew he was smarter then he acted, but when it came to food he really couldn't help himself; it was hard to keep up his mutation, and if he didn't eat before Pietro came home the speed demon would go through everything in his search for sugar. 

Opening the fridge and trying to ignore the slightly mouldy smell that came from it, he was about to put away the eggs when he noticed a glass of something sitting on the second shelf. "Hey Mystique," he yelled, "What's this in the fridge? Yours?" 

Mystique sauntered in and said, "There's something still in the fridge?" she asked with a faint edge of sarcastic surprise, "and here I thought you idiots had eaten us completely out of house and home." 

"Not joking," he said rudely as he pulled the glass from the fridge, "Looks like water but stinks worse then Toad. What do you think it is?" 

Mystique grabbed the glass and wafted it under her nose carefully for just a moment before jerking it away. "God only knows," she replied, "Maybe one of the boys found some sort of medicine for him. We can only hope he has enough energy when this is all done to take a shower." 

She placed the glass on the table and began to help put away the food. "When Toad wakes up, we'll give it to him. If it had been Lance's or Pietro's it would have been gone by now." 

"Too true," said the younger but far larger boy, "Or maybe it's bug juice or somethin'. They might have gotten it for him as a present. I haven't seen him go after a fly in maybe three days." 

"And what a three days it has been," Mystique said with a joking side in her voice, "No slime, no sticks, no sudden whips across the face when you accidentally walk in his path." 

"But have you seen the cockroaches?" Freddy asked, "Ever since Toad stopped eating them, they've been everywhere." 

"So the little turd is good for something after all." Mystique said shortly, "Maybe I should call up his mother and she'll take him back. We would never have to deal with him again!" 

Neither noticed the shadow moving by the doorway, until finally Toad took a weak step in. He had a sour look on his face and was all too pale. "What the hell are you doing up?" Mystique asked shortly when she noticed him, "Get back to the couch before you collapse on what's left of my table!" 

Toad shrugged weakly after looking at the long splitting crack in the table that threatened to make it collapse at any moment before muttering, "You can blame Tro and Lance for that. Got into a fight while you were gone. Heard you talking though… woke me up. I thought maybe you bought some soup?" 

Mystique thought to yell at him again, but knew that now wasn't the time. The boy was sick enough as it was, and added stress wasn't something he needed. Not only that but he had likely heard what the two were talking about, even if he hadn't mentioned it. Toad was surprisingly tight-lipped about his family life, and so it wasn't normally mentioned around him. 

Forcing her mouth into a semi smile, she pointed to a bag off to the side. "Over there, that chicken soup crap you like. If you're hungry you might be getting better, and I don't want you to get sick again, so straight back to bed when you're done! Understand?" 

Toad looked at her for a moment, and she realized how she sounded. She sounded like, god forbid, she cared about the little swamp rat. Quickly she added on, "If you don't, I'll chop off your legs and sell them to the French." 

Toad looked at her still for another moment without comment before walking to the bag and pulling out a box of soup. On one level he was hungry as hell, and almost desperate to get something into his stomach. On another level he knew that anything that he managed to get down there was going to come climbing out at any moment, and having a repeat of how to worship the porcelain deity wasn't something that he really looked forward too. 

Putting the box back where it came from he instead started searching for something to drink. Seeing a glass of water on the counter he picked it up and said, "Yo, this belong to either of you?" 

Both ignored him almost completely, in their quest to get everything put away as soon as possible, and so he decided to drink it. They could always get more water if they wanted, but he was already exhausted just from his excursion to the kitchen. Not only that but it felt as though his nose was completely plugged up, and he needed to go and get some tissues. 

He couldn't smell _anything_ and it was starting to get on his nerves. 

Wanting to get out of there quickly in case the drink really was one of theirs, he downed it all at once, almost chocking it back up again when the taste hit him. "Fuck!" he nearly yelled, making Mystique and Freddy turn around quickly to see what was wrong, "What the hell is that stuff?!" 

Mystique picked up the glass that he had dropped, and realized it was the one with the drink that they had had no idea what it was. "We thought it was yours," she explained, "We don't know what it is. We found it in the fridge." 

He tried to spit it back up again, still chocking on the horrible taste, but it was too late. For a moment he thought he would throw it back up, but then… it was actually calming his stomach… in fact, the drink had made him feel loads better; faster then any medicine he had been able to get off the shelf. 

Taking the glass back from Mystique he looked at it carefully. There was nothing different about it, there was nothing strange about it, but whatever had been in it defiantly helped his illness. "Maybe Pietro or Lance left it for me," he said quietly, not knowing quite what to do or say. The plain and simple fact was that whatever it was helped, and he wasn't about to diss it. But if one of the others had actually taken the time to help him, even if they hadn't mentioned it, they must have thought he was really _dying_ or something. 

He nearly jumped in shock when he felt something touching his forehead, but quickly realized it was Mystique's hand. "Well," she said with a slightly worried tone, "You defiantly feel cooler. Oh I am just going to kill those little bastard when they get some, leaving this kind of shit around without a note to explain it. Could have been poison." 

Freddy merely shrugged. "Go back to bed. By tomorrow morning I bet you're going to be just fine. We'll find out what it was then." 

Mystique nodded, but it was cut off by a long yawn. Looking over to the clock she muttered, "One in the morning? Go to bed Freddy, if you miss school tomorrow I'm gonna' have you're head on a platter, I promise you. And Toad," she said to the young boy who was now yawning deeply as well, "Get back to bed. Maybe you really will be better by tomorrow, and you can go to school as well." 

"Nuts," was the soft reply, "A blessing _and_ and curse, yo. This sucks." 

"To bed." she commanded before turning around, not bothering to watch if the two followed what she said. 

She was right not to worry about it, as Freddy and Toad both turned away. Normally they might have fought over it, but Freddy was really tired, and Toad still felt a bit on the ill side, even if he felt far better then he had before. He felt… strange though. Not quite the same way as he had been only a few moments ago, but strange none the less. Good, but strange. 

And the last thing he thought to himself that night as he went to bed was that tomorrow… tomorrow he was going to feel like a whole new man.

* * *

Lance sat in his car incomfortably, trying to ignore the shooting pains through his head that he had gotten from over using his powers. He had known to be careful, but it never seemed to help in the long run. His anger would always overtake him, and he would be right back where he started with a headache from hell. 

He winced when he accidentally looked up and into a blaring street light, and wondered for a moment just what time it was. The moon was as high as it could get in one night, and there were a million stars in the sky. There was also somebody walking towards him… For a moment he thought to rob him, his old survival instincts coming back in a rush, but no… no, he didn't need the money that badly anymore. He didn't need it bad enough to take it off others… 

As a matter of fact, that brought the thought of having a talk with Toad about his being a klepto into the front of his mind, but he pushed it away knowing that Toad would have never started if it hadn't been necessary. 

Lance watched the figure anyway though, just in case the other boy didn't seem to have the same reservations about robbing _him_. Watching him for a moment, he realized that he recognized that face from somewhere, but it took him a moment to remember that it was from the school dance. This looked like he was the guy who had created the machine that Toad had accidentally used to open up dimension holes- for lack of a better explanation. 

Forge walked right by him, not noticing the jeep that was hidden in the shadows, or the bright eyes following his every move. Like that one move where he looked back… his eyes tracking the street to the Brotherhood Boarding house, as if he was watching for anybody who might try to follow him. 

Lance waited until the boy turned a corner, and waited another minute and a half after that before revving the engine loudly. He had the sudden deperate longing to get home and make sure that everything was alright. To make sure that Forge hadn't done anything to what little he had. 

Forge _had_ done something, and he knew it as though it were a blinding sign in front of his face. Now it was just finding out exactly what he had done. 


	3. 2nd Chapter

**

Morty

**  
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

****

**Chapter 2**  
_It's always darkest just before it goes pitch black. _

Lance parked his jeep, trying not to notice that the wheels of his oh-so-important car had left skid marks in the driveway, and jogged up to the house. The feeling as though something was wrong was coming to him now like a waterfall, but he just couldn't face it… couldn't understand what it was. 

What could one X-Geek do? What kind of power did the boy have anyway, he had never asked. With a jerk of his head he berated himself for not knowing what he should have about his enemy. What kind of team leader let these things go unnoticed? You could be sure that were one of their group to get a new power or new mate, the professor and Logan would know about it in moments. 

Stepping inside the doorway he could see the faint sounds from the television, still on and playing. There was Toad, wrapped up tightly on the couch. His hair was tasselled just enough to make him look like a younger child. Lance smiled when he noticed that the boy was much darker now, the paleness only around his eyes and on the middle of his cheeks. He was even smiling, probably from a good dream involving Wanda. 

When Toad made a slight sound, as though something had disturbed him, Lance took a step towards the television. He turned it off, engulfing himself in the darkness, and made his way to the kitchen where there was several empty plastic bags on the table. He smiled at the thought of having a real breakfast in the morning, and decided that maybe Forge was just being paranoid, walking so close to the Brotherhood house so late at night… 

Lance yawned deeply then, and decided to head off to bed. Unless Mystique had been murdered during the night, which he seriously doubted, there would have been some kind of indication of trouble.

* * *

It was about six o'clock in the morning when the first rays of light managed to make it through the slight crack in the curtains, shining right into the face and the eyes of Todd Tolansky. He blinked several times, but his eyes adjusted quickly to the brightness. 

Slowly he rolled over, revelling in how comfortable he was, smothered under all of the blankets. But after a moment he realized that he was hot. Boiling in fact, and he needed air… it surprised him, because he had never really been overly hot. He was cold-blooded, and when he got warm it just meant he would be all the more awake. He was never uncomfortably boiling. 

Tossing off the covers aside with his legs he sat up carefully and put his feet on the ground, all the while trying to find any trace of the illness that had been after him for almost three days. But he smiled when he realized that he didn't just feel good… he felt great! He felt as though a large weight had been lifted off of his chest, and his shoulders, and everywhere. It was strange, but he could almost imagine he felt lighter then before. More balanced. 

Cheerfully he stood up to go to the bathroom- and fell right back on the couch. "Yo," he muttered quietly through the blankets that had fallen right onto his face. 

He mumbled several curse words that were unintelligible through the covers, and again tried to stand- and fell right back over again. Something was overbalancing him, he knew, and so he sat back more comfortably then the last time, and took a look at his legs and feet. They looked normal. They felt normal. 

But something was wrong, he couldn't seem to balance as much as he wanted to. 

Putting both hands on the side of the couch, he stood up, careful to put all of his balance on leaning on the couch. When he was finally standing he shuffled his feet until he felt he could stand up, and took his hands off the couch. It was working, he thought in amazement. The strange thing was he was standing in a way that he had never done before. 

His feet… were flat on the ground. Not balancing on the front as though he were going to jump, or on the balls as though he were going to do a back-flip. He was just… standing. Standing like _normal_ person would. 

It felt strange. 

He took a careful step forward, watching as his feet moved to stay flat on the ground- using his whole foot at once. It was strange, he had never actually used his whole foot at once. It was either the back or the front and this, this was just weird. 

When he was sure he had gotten the hang of walking, he decided to go upstairs and take a shower. The stench of vile was still hanging around him, and now that his nose wasn't plugged it was coming at him at all force. But it wasn't just the puke, he could smell something else too. Something damp, moist, and moulding. 

Shuddering at the scent he went upstairs to the bathroom, carefully holding onto the hand rail the entire time. Just because he was quickly getting the hang of using his whole feet to push himself from the ground, it didn't mean he trusted himself to use the stairs. He couldn't imagine how anybody could walk like this, and promised himself that he would find out what had happened to his legs as soon as he hand a shower and got rid of the horrible smell. 

Walking into the bathroom he went straight to the shower, knowing that if he didn't get the stench off him he was likely to get sick again. Turning on the water he stepped in, but shivered at how cold it was. He had never had a problem with water temperature before, but obviously something was wrong… 

As he stood in the shower, actually using shampoo and conditioner in his hair without a second though, he wondered what could have happened to make him feel so different. To actually have to walk different. To feel temperature in a way that he hadn't before. Hs first thought was the illness, but a lot of people had had it, and they hadn't had their mutations changed at all during their sick time. Another thought was that he might have been overly-stressed when he was sick, bringing out another type of mutation. After all, he was only sixteen and some people didn't even _start_ getting their mutations until around now. 

That thought in his mind he continued to wash his hair, watching in facination as the water came from the showerhead clean, but slowly turned a dark rotting brown colour as it rolled through his hair and over his shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he had used shampoo or conditioner, and so decided that this must be a product of it. When the water was finally running clean again he took a bar of soap gingerly, trying to ignore the slippery gross feeling he got when he held it- but this felt different too. 

Before today he had always hated soap, because it felt like it was sticking to him; all the more gross then normal dirt or slime. But now it felt as though it just slipped onto him, and when the water ran across his skin it came away easily, bringing with it dirt like he couldn't believe. 

When he had washed his whole body, shocked and surprised at how much dirt was coming off of his now, he wondered why he had never noticed quite how much dirt he had picked up. Sure, he showered every month, but the gross-ness never came off like this. Before it almost looked like his skin was just a darker colour, but now when he used the soap he could see an extreme white colour of skin underneath. For almost forty five minutes after that he scrubbed his body until every inch of him was that same colour. 

The colour of _Pietro's_ skin. 

Normal skin. 

"What the fuck is wrong with me, yo?" he asked himself rhetorically as he turned off the tap. 

Opening the curtain he was shocked at just how much steam had built up during his time in the water, and walked up to the mirror. He wanted to see what he looked like now; pale and sick probably, after just getting over a major illness and maybe even getting a new mutation. 

Walking up to the mirror he looked into it, quickly wiping away a bunch of the steam that had built up on it, causing his reflection to be distorted and smothered. And when he saw what he saw… he couldn't help himself. 

He screamed.

* * *

Lance lay comfortably in bed, his covers pulled right up over his head, as he listened to the sound of pounding water in the bathroom. For a moment he considered going out there and pounding on the door to make Pietro hurry up, but decided in the end that it wasn't worth it. 

He couldn't understand how a boy who had so much trouble standing in place for more then three minutes, and absolutely no chance of standing in place for more then five, could possibly spend near to an hour in the bathroom. Lance understood how hard it probably was to get his wings just right, but it didn't change the fact that there were four other people in the house who were going to want to use the bathroom- and one of them was a very blue, very angry woman. 

When he heard the tap finally turning off, he pulled himself out of bed sadly, and grabbed the blue towel that was hanging off the end of his bed. He was going to have to make his shower fast, he knew, but to not shower at all would probably be just what Kitty needed to decide she hated him once and for all. And that was something that he just couldn't test. 

Suddenly there was a blood-curdling scream coming from the bathroom, and it took him a moment to understand that it wasn't Pietro… actually, it sounded like a distorted version of Toad, though that made no sense to him. 

Grabbing his pants he ran for the bathroom, where both Mystique and Freddy already stood, about to try and bust their way in. He said "Stop," quickly though, before the Blob could throw himself at the door, and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "I've got a debit card in here," he continued, "I'll just jimmy my way in so we don't have to replace the door." 

Mystique nodded, though the Blob looked disappointed at the thought of losing his chance to bust down the door. Quickly the door was pushed open, and a cloud of steam billowed out at the trio, making them blind to anything happening in the bathroom, giving Toad a chance to grab a towel and cover himself up. 

Mystique had spent the an almost unforgettable (though not in a good way) part of her life with the little slime ball, and she knew exactly what he looked like. But when she saw the boy in the bathroom both of her eyes opened widely; as did Freddy's and Lance's. 

"Toad?" she asked, and it was the first time in her life she could ever remember her voice sounding weak. 

"Yo, what the fuck is wrong with me?" he said, just as startled. 

Toad looked like a completely new person. Surprisingly tall, as tall as Mystique at least. Long legs, still well muscled but it a more natural human way. His skin was a very light pink, like somebody who stayed generally clean but spent most of their time in the basement. His hair was pitch black, wet and sticking up in some places, but those were the major changes. The changes that had shocked her were to his face. 

For as long as Toad could remember his face seemed wider then it was long, because he needed big cheeks to hold in his six feet of tongue. Now his face was slimmed down, with a well defined and much larger jaw and chin. His lose was longer, and didn't end in quite the same point as before, and his eyes were a much more natural size. Not only that but now there were an emerald green versus the slime that they were before. 

And he had virtually no odor. …At least, not comparatively. 

"Oh my god…" Lance said, "Look at you… you look completely different!" 

"I know, yo!" Toad said, scared and worried, "I just saw me! And I've been doing weird things all day! I even have to use my whole foot to walk! And I jumped in shock when I saw the mirror… and I only came a foot or two off the ground!" 

Mystique's eyes tracked him for a moment, thinking about what could have possibly caused this. With a sudden turn she looked straight at Lance. "Did you leave anything in the fridge yesterday? Any kind of drink? Or did Quicksilver?" 

Lance shook his head in confusion. "No, I didn't, and I don't think Pietro did either… why?" 

"We found it in the fridge and we thought that one of you had left it for Toad… it did make him feel better. It's the only cause for such a drastic change that I can see, unless you three idiots have any better ideas?" 

Freddy and Toad both shook their head miserably as Toad sat on the edge of the tub, his head in his hands. Lance however had an idea. "Oh! That Forge kid, I saw him last night heading home. He had to have passed the Brotherhood house for sure! I bet he did this!" 

Toad stood up quickly at the words, however fell back again when he over-balanced. Freddy caught him and helped him back to his feet as Toad said, "Okay then. Let's go find out what that seventies fuck-up did to me." 

With that they all headed towards the door, only stopping when Pietro zipped into the room. "Hey," Pietro said before anybody had a chance to explain, "Who-the-hell-is-he?"

* * *

A/N: From now on (to make sure I get at least one review from every reader, lol) I'm going to devote each chapter to one of my reviewers. All you have to do is click the button, and one of the chapters will eventually be yours! So come on, come all, and review review review!


	4. 3rd Chapter

**

Morty

**   
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

On a sidenote, I wrote this when I was drunk... after reading it through afterwords, it makes sense to _me_, but if it doesn't too you, I'll rewrite it again. Okay?

* * *

**Chapter 3**   
_The journey of a thousand miles sometimes ends very, very badly. _

Forge sat once again at his work table underneath the school. He preferred his lab at Xavier's institute, but… not everything he liked to work on was exactly the kind of thing he wanted a psychic knowing about. Stuff likes this. Failed experiments like this. 

He had discovered what was wrong with the formula, though it had taken three full hours of staring mindlessly at the rats to find it. The formula was, god forbid, working backwards. Not only that but it wasn't something that happened as soon as the formula was drank. About three hours after he had gotten back to bed after the Brotherhood house fiasco he had a brainstorm and run to the lab. When he had gotten there he had noticed it… 

Something was off… 

He checked up on the animals, and sure enough it was actually that they were younger. The mice had gotten younger then they were when he had given them with the formula. 

With that thought in his head he had gone into the science, trying to find out exactly what was going to happen if one of the Brotherhood members drank it. It was simple enough; if they drank it they would de-age by about a month. Nothing so noticeable in a human, even if it was in a rat. However he knew that there were going to be variables, especially if Toad had drank it, being sick and all. 

Taking samples of the virus he had forced it to interact with his formula, and he had discovered something odd… the virus that had only affected people with the X-Gene forced a mutation in the formula itself. It affected the formula, making the formula effect it from there. It was quite a head turner in the end. 

When he had it all figured out, he realized that were Toad the one to drink it, his X-Gene would be the thing the was de-aged; but because a gene doesn't age, it would do the best it could and de-evolve. If Toad was the one who drank it… he would de-evolve. He would be the human he would have been naturally had he never been a mutant. 

It was an incredible discovery; though it left him with an incredible dilemma. He had discovered a _cure_ for mutations… but mutations were a natural cause of evolution. Should he share his secret, and let people who would have been forced into a sort of exile like the Brotherhood had been, into a better life? Or should he let things be as they should be? As nature intended? 

Carefully putting down the half bottle of the formula that he had left, he turned around. He was going to go back to bed, and whatever happened… would happen. He wouldn't tell anybody for now, but if he ever had to then it was there and ready. 

As soon as he spun around however, he saw the clock. Passed eight, he realized with a start. There would be people looking for him. They would be asking questions… 

He opened the door to his lab and walked out- and straight into somebody's chest. Looking up he saw the face of one Lance Alvers, and behind him his group of merry miscreants. Problem was they all looked extremely, extremely pissed off. 

"Um… hi?" he said, knowing that he was going to be in a lot of trouble. 

He didn't know how much though, even when Mystique began to drag him away by his ear like an angry mother.

* * *

Magneto sat in his, for all intents and purposes his throne, watching as the young man in front of him stutter and stammered through his tale. He hadn't told it easily, and Magneto had to threaten to blow up an elementary school before he would even say his name. 

Slowly he stood, and for the first time took a long look at the boy he had long known as a smelly Toad. It was amazing, the change he had gone through, even if the boy didn't seem to agree. He looked, god forbid, good. Healthy. Strong. 

He looked like the complete opposite of Todd Tolansky. 

With a quick flick of his wrist Gambit knew to pull Forge off, towards the laboratory where Forge would work for _him_. Sure, he wouldn't _want_ to, but that was really a moot point. 

With a quick look at the group in front of him he said, "We can use this to our advantage, I'm sure. Everybody who knows what's happened works for us, or is being locked up as we speak." 

"And how do you propose we do that?" Mystique asked, knowing that the boys, as stupid as they were, were not stupid enough to question Magneto. "As far as I can see all this means is that were a team member short! He can't fight like this Magneto, and from what I can see it's not going to wear off." 

Magneto gave her a long look before saying, "Mystique. Take the boys," he pointed at Lance, Freddy, and Pietro, "and go back to the Boarding house. If anybody asks, Todd Tolansky ran away. He was tired of the fighting. The household violence. Anybody whose heard of the Brotherhood will believe that." 

He turned to Todd then, who was trying to shy into a wall as to stay as far away from his view as possible. "And as for you, we'll talk somewhere else. I can't risk that anybody will overhear us, even here." 

With that he walked from the room, his cape flowing out from behind him. Todd looked at him in fear, knowing he was expected to follow, but all he wanted was to leave with his friends. Fights and hard life or not, the Brotherhood was what he knew. And being part of some new and bizarre plan (and Magneto did tend to have some really weird ones), was something he wanted to be as far away from as possible. 

As the deep metal door slammed behind him though, he ran to catch up with Magneto- stopping himself from tripping by staring at his feet as he did so, carefully making sure that they landed as was normal for a human.

* * *

The room was completely empty, except for a small air vent in the ceiling with many devices pointed at it; just in case a certain shape shifter decided to come in uninvited. Toad saw a small spider crawl out, and within seconds it was crispy fried by a laser. 

"So." Magneto said, as he spun to face the younger boy, "Toad." 

"Um… yes sir?" was the scared reply. 

"As you can see, this new development has some interesting perspectives. You look like a literal new person. Your… _scent_ before, for lack of a more polite term, was a side effect of your mutation, so you even smell like a new person now. Without a six foot tongue in your mouth your voice is even different." 

"You're point being, Yo?" Toad asked, getting confused and fed up. His feet hurt, his mouth felt weird without a tongue inside of it, and he knew he was going to over-balance again at any moment. 

"My point being that with your looks and scent alone, you could have almost the complete institute under the belief that you are, quite frankly, _not_ Todd Tolansky." He looked Toad directly in the eyes, and smiled. "I've been looking for a new lead into the institute Todd, somebody I knew was on our side- but could fake being with Xavier's group well enough. If we were to do some work on your voice… some slights to make sure you can balance well enough, and even fight with a more natural grace then you have now, I have no doubt in my mind you could be a first class spy." 

Toad looked at him for a full minute before breaking into full blown laughter. He ended up on his back, clutching his sides, for almost a full minute before he could stop. "You mean you want _me_," he pointed at himself for measure, "To just waltz up to the Xavier institute and have them take me in? Not gonna' work yo, I can tell you that now." 

"And just why is that?" Magneto asked patiently. 

"Well for one thing if Todd Tolansky disappears one day and a new mutant comes up the next, they're going to know something's up." 

"So we don't send you in for a month," Magneto explained, "It will give us some time for you to work on being a new and improved you anyway." 

"Fine," Todd agreed, "What about the voice then? They're going to recognize me, yo. And I do have a certain catch phrase, if you haven't noticed, that's really obvious." 

"Ah yes," Magneto agreed with an evil smile, "I have an idea about that too. I have a new colleague, Mastermind. He changes memories. All we have to do is alter your memories so that you remember the lat few years, your entire life even, of people talking with say… a heavy British accent. You'll quite naturally pick it up from there. Some vocal work on top of that and I don't see why you couldn't fool even Wolverine." 

Todd looked at him in amazement, almost desperate to find something to call against Magneto, to stop the entire masquerade before it even began. "Okay yo," he said, "What about my mutation? From what Forge says I ain't got one anymore." 

Magneto stopped for a moment to think of a response, but before Toad could feel as though he had won the battle, he smiled. "Of course," he said quietly to himself, before saying, "I was trying to discover a new way to hide my own mind from Xavier over the last few ways, and did find a way to do so- however because of my own mutation the interaction cancels out anything that would have come from the mental blocker." 

"What do you mean yo?" Toad asked in confusion. 

"If we implant you with a chip that I had in fact meant for myself, Xavier will be unable to read you. Therefore your mutation can be mental blocking; he doesn't know I've discovered such a technology. It would also give a reason as to why Cerebro never found you." 

"There's even a story behind it, yo!" Toad said, getting a bit excited now. It actually sounded like it was going to work! "Say I have a father whose a mutant, but doesn't want to admit it. He's a telepathic or something and can't read me, so he knows I'm a mutant too. When he finds out people are discovering he's a mutant he pushes attention to me and I have to run away. Wha-la! A reason to stay at the institute, trying to escape a bunch of Brits who want to do me in for being a mutant." 

Magneto smiled and nodded just enough that Todd could see it. 

"And now a name," Magneto said quietly after a moment. "I understand that Marina Tolansky was your mother?" 

Todd nodded sadly. Remembering his mother wasn't exactly his favourite past-time. "And what was your fathers?" 

Todd was about to say when he jerked back. "No way, yo! No way am I gonna' go by that bastards name!" 

"Toad…" Magneto nearly growled, "What was the mans name?" 

He flinched at the tone, and knew that one on one with Magneto was not a good idea. After almost a full name he nearly whispered, "Mortimer Toynbee." 

"Mortimer…" Magneto tested, looking at him, "I wouldn't have thought it to look at you before all this, but it does suit you rather well. From now on, if you even think of _yourself_ as Todd Tolansky, you will go through hell and back." 

Todd nodded. 

Magneto stood then, and turned to leave. At the door however, he turned back. "The way you look now Mortimer, is just a basis. We'll have you changed so much within the next month that even the Brotherhood members won't recognize you. I'll have Mastermind in to see you soon enough… but until you go back you are not to have any contact with anybody but he and I. Understand?" 

Todd nodded glumly, and slumped back into a barely noticeable chair in the corner of the room. It was behind where Magneto had been standing, so he hadn't noticed it at first. "Until then," Magneto said as he waved one hand. A panel in the wall moved aside, and behind it were several books- they looked to be about things like mechanics and building. One even had piloting marked across the front, "Keep yourself occupied with these. If you're going to be a new person, even to the Acotolytes, you might as well have some noticeable difference in intelligence." 

And with that he left, leaving Todd all alone.

* * *

This chapter, I would like to dedicate to **Invader Nina**, whom I sometimes think is stalking me. :) She reviews more then a few of my stories, and I love having her input! Here's to you **Invader Nina**! 


	5. 4th Chapter

**

Morty

**  
_By Maikafuiniel _

* * *

**Chapter 4**  
_Disloyalty There comes a time when every team must learn to make individual sacrifices._

Lance, Pietro, and Freddy sat in the back of the car Mystique had driven them to Magneto's current hide-out in. The radio was off, and the riders were complete silent. Nobody knew what to say, or even if there was anything to say at all. For all intents and purposes, one of their team-mates had just died. 

Pietro for one knew that if Magneto had told them that Todd Tolansky was no more, then he really wouldn't be. Magneto didn't make idol threats; a lesson he had learned at a very young age. 

Their lives had just been changed drastically- and that was to say nothing of their lost comrade. They had always made fun of the little slime-ball, but he had taken up such a large part of their lives… He had been the first Brotherhood member. He was the one who made them feel welcome when _they_ were new. He- 

"Who cleans out his room?" Pietro said suddenly, as was normal for him, cutting off Lance's musings, "Call not it. Not it!" 

Of course he knew nobody was likely to beat him at such a stupid game, and Lance opened his mouth to say so when he was interrupted again by Freddy. "Not it!" 

Lance stared at the pair beside him for a moment with wide eyes as they gave each other high fives. "That would mean you Lance," Pietro said with a smug grin, "If you want me to find you a bio-hazard suit, I can't make any promises- but I'll make the effort for our little Toady." 

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?" Lance sputtered as Mystique listened on, "We just _lost_ a member of our team! Gone! Finito! And all you can think about is who cleans out his bedroom?" 

Pietro snorted rudely before looking Lance right in the eyes and saying, "It's done. It's happened. It's sad, but it's not like it's going to be such a big thing. I've thought about it, and it's not my fault if you can't keep up. And you know what I stumbled on when I was thinking about it?" 

Before Lance could say something rude in response, Mystique looked at the trio through the rear-view mirror and said, "What's the Pietro?" 

"We're a fucked-up family." Pietro said simply, "Plain and simple. We got no money, we got no lives, we're wanted criminals, and if the Bayville police ever get off their asses we're sitting ducks." He stopped and took a breath, willing himself to talk slowly enough to have everybody understand him as he continued, "We fight constantly, and most of it is directed at him. It's not like we're being mean by leaving him with dad- it's not like he would have _let_ us keep Toad if he had some secret agenda all planned out in his head. 

"Father isn't just going to dump him into a pit of lions; if he was he would have done it one hell of a long time ago. He wants to use this to his advantage, and that always works one hell of a lot better when the person you're controlling is going along with it willingly. And that," Pietro concluded, "Obviously means that he's got to have a better life then he had at our house. Magneto has to give him something that will make him wants to stay there more. Frankly Lance," he said, "We know he'll have a good life there, but we can't keep the same promise with us. Don't you think we'd be being way bigger assholes to take him home then to leave him with this opportunity? To be, you know, human?" 

Everybody digested the information slowly as Pietro picked up a book that had been left on the car floor, and started to flick through it quickly. It was Shogun, and was obviously his as nobody else had the time to read a book like that. Lance watched him with a bit of a frown, not knowing if there was a retort on earth good enough to fight Pietro's argument. It was… logical. It didn't mean Lance had to be happy about it. 

Unfortunately however, that just made him feel more guilty. He wasn't sure anymore if he wanted Toad back at the house for his own good… or for the good of Lance Alvers. 

The drive continued on, and Lance watched out the window at the passing scenery. He hadn't really paid attention to it on the drive there, his attention on his young friend. 

_"So… what does it feel like?" _

"What do you mean 'what does it feel like' yo? How am I supposed to feel?" 

"I just mean, does it feel different? Being human?" 

"Just the physical mutation stuff… Not having my mouth full... the walking thing is really weird. I don't think I've ever had to balance like this in my entire life- and my back was bent so I hunched even when I was standing 'straight'." 

"Well, at least you have good posture now." 

"Amazing actually," they heard Mystique say, "You've probably reverted into who you were naturally… without the years of slouching as you learned to walk included. The perfect version of a human you. You had better not mess it up Toad." 

"I don't plan on keepin' it long. If I can figure out how to be me again yo, that's it." 

"Why? What's not to like? You're human man! Free of the war and all the shit that gets thrown at us for bein' who we are." 

"I might not have liked who I was, yo. But I was me. I don't wanna' be anybody different, 'cause I don't know how to. Not really." 

Lance was wrenched out of his thoughts again as he heard Freddy speak. "It's weird, you know?" He said sadly, "If we ever see him again… he's not Toad anymore. And he'll get used to it… the being human thing. He'll get used to it, and he'll have human friends and do things like them… He's not gonna' be Toad anymore. He's gonna' be somebody else." 

"Don't be stupid," Pietro said as he poked Freddy, "He's Toad. Maybe he'll change the definition of that, I don't know. But the little wart will always be the little wart. Just because his looks change doesn't mean his habits will unless he wants them to." 

"Don't knock him man," Lance agreed with Freddy, "He's going to get used to it, he just doesn't know it yet. He's gonna' figure out that things are easier like this. Better. And from then on he's not going to be himself. You notice how excited he was about just walking with his whole foot?" 

"He hated it!" Pietro declared, "He kept falling over!" 

"He was still in shock- he only found out he looked different about five minutes before you did. And besides which, what about when he's not falling over anymore?" Lance challenged, "What about when he gets to be just like everybody else? Hell, he'll probably have girls fighting over him, with a body like that!" 

Everybody was silent for a moment before Mystique said quietly from the front, "You know, he might _not_ like it. You lot all changed from who you were. You lost a bit of yourselves when you got your mutations, and saw life from both sides." 

"You're point being what?" Freddy asked. 

"Toad was born who he was. He was born with a tongue five times longer then a body. Born with that god-damned hop of his." 

"You're kidding me," Lance said in stark surprise, "No way. No kid could ever deal with that." 

"You call ending up with you three idiots, living in a delapated house, and working for a super-terrorist bent on genocide without even realizing it 'dealing' with it? I pity you Lance… you really _are_ as dumb as you look." 

Lance merely rolled his eyes skyward; the rest of the trip to school was spent in silence.

* * *

Forge sat behind his desk, nearly growling at every single person who passed him by. He wasn't angry. He wasn't mad. No, he was livid. 

Gambit had dragged him towards the lab at top speed, knowing that if he took longer then expected he was going to be in trouble. Forge had thought that once they got to wherever they were going and Gambit took his hands off Forges shoulder (taking away the possibility of him getting exploded) he would be able to escape. However, it had not been possible. 

It seemed everything in the building was made of metal, which wouldn't have been at all bad, if it hadn't of been adamantium. Forge knew it was because Magneto could control it but nobody else could destroy or alter it, and it made for one hell of a cage. Only moment after arriving his foot had been changed to the table leg. 

Gambit had told him to wait patiently, though Forge could barely understand him through the heave Louisiana accent, and that one of the scientists would be along shortly. The room had been small and uncomfortably empty. There was nothing to do with himself but think- and think he did, about all the trouble he had caused. How would he ever fix this mess? 

After about thirty minutes the door slid open, revealing a man clothed entirely in black. From his heavy, high boots, to the baggy pants tucked into them, and the long sleeved shirt- he was dressed entirely in the colour. But as Forge looked at him, it almost seemed to shift… to become a lighter colour. But as the man moved closer it changed again… lighter, greyer, darker, blacker. He realized suddenly that his clothing was changing with the amount of light, and where it was hit. 

Forge forced himself to look at the mans face to try and memorize it, in case it became necessary later. He was uncomfortably pale, with dark short hair and a goatee- again pitch black. He had a pointed face, with thin dark eyebrows and slanted eyes. He looked like he was just a naturally angry fellow… 

Dangerous. 

"I'm Shadow," the man said quietly after letting Forge look at him for a moment. "A doctor. Physics, chemistry, and biology. I've got more PhD's then you could count, no matter the language. And believe me, I do know many. Mind if I sit down?" 

Forge looked at the man with an odd look on his face. "Umm…" he said, "There are no chairs. You do know that, right?" 

"No matter," he responded as he bent over, casting a shadow beneath him where the light couldn't reach. With one hand then, he carefully touched the edge of the shadow… and then… Forge couldn't really say what happened next, because he wasn't sure. The man seemed to grab the shadow, although he couldn't imagine how. He picked it straight up off the ground and stared at it, touching it in just the right areas to shape it into a chair. He waved one hand then, and all of a sudden it fell to the ground, solid as anything. Forge stared at him in disbelief, and then at the chair that hadn't been there only moment ago. "So," Forge said weakly, "That's your mutation then?" 

"I can use shadows," the man nodded, "Use them. Meld them. Change them. Let it be a warning- I will be watching you, and if I find your work… let us say, _unsatisfactory_, I can create a gun or any sort of weapon quite easily. I am literally never without a weapon, so I suggest you take the lesson to heart." 

Forge nodded, knowing that now was not the time to test his captor. 

Quickly Shadow pulled a small picture out of his pocket, and placed it in front of Forge's face. "This." he said, "Do you know what this is?" 

"That's a sentinel," Forge said as though he were talking to a small child, "Every mutant knows that." 

"Not for long." Shadow said with a cruel smile, and his eyes shined. "You and me," he continued, "We're going to turn it into something much more… deadly."

* * *

Magneto watched the boy through a mirror that was invisible on the other side. A nice piece of technology if he did say so himself. "That," he said to the man beside him, "Is Todd Tolansky." 

"Yessss…" the smaller man said slowly, "I can sssee that… but what about him?" 

"I want you to change some of his memories; and your own afterwords." 

"An why would I do ssssuch a thing?" Mastermind questioned with a querk of a smile. 

"Because I pay you more then you deserve." Magneto said simply. "The job is quite straight forward. I need the boy to only ever remember people calling him Mortimer Toynbee. And that everyone around him speaks with a heavy British accent." 

"Sssstrange request. Why?" 

"I need to alter his speech some, and I think this will help quite a bit." 

"I assssure you, it will…" 

"And the name?" 

"Easily done… but I mussst be able to touch him to do ssssomething sssso… intricate." 

Magneto nodded and smiled, though nobody could see it behind his metal mask. "Good." he said, "Very good."

* * *

This chapter, I would like to dedicate to **psychobunny410**, who seems to be stalking me as well! Gotta say I'm loving it though. I love to hear 'fav lines' from you, and hope I keep getting to listen in. Knowing I had at least one really great qoute in each chapter... priceless. Thanks **psychobunny410**!


	6. 5th Chapter

**

Morty

**  
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

**Chapter 5**  
_You can do anything you set your mind to when you have vision, determination, and an endless supply of expendable labour._

**Warning: Forge torture. No joke. Nothing explicit, but if you have any imagination at all it's pretty gross.**

Todd sat back in a lazy fashion an hour later, still trying to make his way through the first chapter of one of the books Magneto had left for him. He _wanted_ to learn this stuff, but it was just so… boring. Seriously, seriously boring.. His mind kept wandering, and eventually he realized that the guys would just be getting to school now- just in time for afternoon classes. 

It wasn't like he wanted to be in school, but knowing that he was never going to see the guys again was hard. Worse was knowing that he _would_ see them, and they would think he was just another X-Geek or some stupid human who didn't know what was going on in the world. 

A sudden knock on the door brought his attention the a young man standing there waiting for a response from the rooms occupants. It was obvious that he would have come in if he had wanted to, and was just being polite by knocking, so Todd tried to polite in his response. Toad looked up and nodded. "I guess, you know, come on in, yo. So, um, you that Mastermind guy?" 

The young man nodded. "My powersss are quite ssstrong. I will have you ready in no time." 

Todd stared at him for a moment, confused. The voice of that of an older man, or somebody who had gone through a good amount of hell in his life. But it just didn't fit with the body. Something about this guy was off. "Um, I suppose that's good…" Toad said as he stood up, trying to make sure he was able to block if this guy was going to do anything to him. He faked stretching, but fell backwards in the process. "Whoa!" 

The man caught him quickly, and Toad noticed as he came closer that the way he looked… it changed subtly. "What the fuck yo? Get away from me!" 

"I admit… I do not look like thisss normally." Mastermind admitted, and Toad found himself realizing that the man was reading his mind at this very moment. "But my powersss are quite ssstrong," he continued, "so I might as well use them to make my life easssier, no?" 

Todd looked at him, an odd look on his face as he tried to figure out this new arrival. Besides the lisp, he really did look like a normal person- but if what he was saying was the way it sounded, he probably looked desperately bad in reality. Something about this guy just turned Todd off; he did _not_ want his memories to be messed with. He would dump the "yo" thing on his own, even if it was damned hard to do so. 

"Come here," Mastermind said, with an evil hint in his voice, "I doubt either of usss wantsss to get Magneto angry after all…" 

"Fuck Magneto," Todd threw out with venom, "Fuck this whole thing- I don't know why I even _thought_ about it, yo!" 

With a surprisingly fast leg Mastermind kicked out at him, making Todd slip. He landed with a thump on his bottom, and before he could pull himself up Mastermind put his hands on either side of his head. 

And suddenly… things had changed.

* * *

Lance stepped out of the car, quickly followed by the rest of the boys. They waited for a moment as Mystique changed into Raven Darkholme, principal, and she followed them. "Alright then boys," she said sagely, "We need the X-Men to notice as soon as possible that he's gone. So either mention it near them right away, or not at all."

"Not at all?" Freddy asked. 

"When they figure it out on their own they'll try to think back to when they last saw him. They may even overestimate, and things will be all the better for us- and for him." 

All three boys nodded and began to walk away. Freddy was still feeling nostalgic however, as he said, "This is just so weird." 

"You've been to school without Toad before Blob," Pietro said with a sneer, "Stop your whining. It's not like it's gonna' change anything for the better." 

"I miss him though," was the low reply, "And you're supposed to be his friend 'Tro, so why aren't you acting like it?" 

"Like what?" Pietro said with an air of incedous on his voice, "Like I _liked_ him? Like I _wanted_ him around? We're members of the Brotherhood, but Toad and I had something going that be both understood. We worked together, we relaxed together, but we were _not_ friends." 

Freddy raised one fist with every intention of punching Pietro out, while Lance tried to jump between the two. It didn't help when Freddy wasn't able to pull his punch back and socked Lance right in the nose. "Dammit!" Lance yelled, cradling his now bleeding nose, "Damn it Blob, you broke my god-damned nose!" 

Freddy wasn't listening however, still intent on punching Pietro who was whizzing around him faster the bigger boy could follow, shouting obscenities the entire time.. 

That was when the X-Men sauntered around the corner as though they didn't have a care in the world.

* * *

"Snowboarding." Kurt said steadily, knowing that he had this argument won already, "Nozing beats Snowboarding. …'Less you are in Hawaii, because surfing is pretty cool, ja?"

"It's a rip-off!" Evan nearly shouted, "Skateboarding is the only sport worth playing, and you know it fuzzy! The others shouldn't even be _considered_!" 

Both boys continued their light-heated argument, not noticing that Scott had held up his hand to stop the group. Kurt quickly collided with Scott's hand, and likewise Evan walked right into Jean. "Vhat the-" Kurt asked, "Vhat are those three doing?" 

Jean had been pointing with one finger at the trio, her mouth agape at the sight. Lance was covering his face as blood streamed from it, Blob was waving his fists around trying to hit some unknown thing- which was obviously Pietro from the curses that carried even this far away. 

"I think," Scott said with a short laugh, "They're trying to kill each other. Good thing too, saves us the work." 

The boys in the group laughed at the comment, though the girls hid thinly disguised looks of disgust. Rogue gave a little smile and put one gloved hand on Jean's shoulder. "Don't worry Jean, they do this kind of stuff all the time." 

"At _home_." Jean argued. "What if they start using their powers here? We'll all get kicked out for it!" 

The looks on everybody's faces turned to one of slight horror, and they all turned again to see how the fight was progressing. With any luck they would calm down… but it seemed that such an ending was not to be. 

"Apologise!" they could hear Freddy yelling, "Or I swear I'll squash you!" 

The X-Men snickered at this, though Jean flashed them all a nasty look to quell the humour, and they continued to watch. "No way!" Pietro yelled as Lance continued to stumble around, "It's true and you know it Blob! He was damn near useless, why should I care whether he's gone or not?" 

The words barely floated as far as they did, reaching the X-Men. None of them thought a thing about what was actually being said, but Rogue raised one delicate eyebrow. "What do you think they're talking about?" 

"Who cares?" Asked Evan, still intent on watching how the show turned out, but Rogue was still curious. 

'Was,' she thought to herself, 'Who _was_ useless? Who do they even _know_?' 

Her mind first turned to the aussie, but he had an extremely obvious and useful power. Pietro wouldn't have meant him. Gambit was too powerful to earn the comment as well, and she wasn't even bothering to skim the idea of Piotr being who he was talking about. So who else… 

And with a start she realized that Toad wasn't among the people fighting. And then the word 'was' came back to mind, again and again, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping just a little more every time. 

"Holy…" she said under her breath, the amazement catching the attention of her half brother. 

"Vhat is it Rogue?" the boy said in concern, the fight in front of them forgotten. 

"They're talking about Toad," she whispered, not sure whether to be amazed or upset. "Toad… is gone…"

* * *

"You're crazy." Forge said simply after hearing Shadow's plan. "You're flippin' nuts."

"Am I?" Shadow laughed, "I don't know… Perhaps I am… but I like to think of it more along the lines of intricate. I believe this plan will work boy, and I believe you will help be to bring it into the world." 

"No." Forge refused with a shake of his head, "No way. I'm not doing it. Count me out." 

"You act as though you have a choice… believe me when I say you do not." 

"And just how do you expect to make me?" Forge blurted out before realizing how stupid he sounded. He was locked in the basement of Magneto's lair, in the secret labs, and almost _asking_ to be tortured. 

With a shake of his head he knew though, that no matter his fear he really had no choice. He refused to help this man. No, he was defiantly insane. And there was nothing else he could do but refuse. 

It was at that moment that Forge truly began to fear for his life. 

The tall man knelled down, looking him directly in the eyes before smiling widely. "Shadows in your eyes," he said quietly, so close to Forge's face that he could feel the breath as he spoke, "I see them…" 

Forge looked at him, not knowing what was going to happen now… Until the man lifted one hand over Forges face, blocking out any light... any little bit of the room that he could reach... 

The younger boy tried to push his hand away, but found himself locked down by metal cuffs that he hadn't seen come from the table. He wanted to do something, anything, but he knew if he even tried to transform his arms they would be crushed. The cuffs were no doubt made by adamantuim, and he wouldn't be able to break out. 

And sudden Shadow began pulling his hand back… for a moment Forge didn't know just what had happened, but something wasn't right… He could feel a tugging on his face, as if he were on some sort of theme park ride, going at high speeds. On his cheeks. But mostly in his eyes. 

_"Shadows in your eyes…"_

And then he began screaming.

* * *

This chapter is devoted to **bleedingmoon89**! You see, a few chapters back **bleedingmoon89** said, and I quote, "I want Forge to be in major trouble!". Well, there you have it, the first Forge torture I've ever seen! And it's mine! Mine! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!


	7. 6th Chapter

**

Morty

**   
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

**Chapter 6**   
_In a battle between you and the world… bet on the world._

Magneto watched through the glass as the newly created Mortimer Toynbee went through major brain surgery. From what Mastermind had told him, the boy was good and done. He remembered _being_ Todd Tolansky… and yet only being referred to as Mortimer Toynbee. He would never forget that he was Todd, it made up too big of a part of him. Of course when Magneto had been told this he had been angry… to a _slight_ degree. There was one thought that made him secure in the knowledge that he was getting the best help he could right now though; he knew that if Mastermind couldn't do it then it was likely that nobody could. Not even Xavier. 

After Mastermind had come out of the room, tired and ready to collapse, Magneto had taken Mortimer to the medical bay where he told one of his doctors that Mortimer, a new recruit, had been rescued from a mob. Of course the damage to his mind would be extensive if counted on top of his new powers, and so the only thing that would save him was the chip. 

The doctor, knowing Magneto was lying but also knowing that he would be dead were he to question the evil masterminds plots, began the brain surgery immediately. That was three hours ago. 

Now Magneto stood watching as the doctor and his nurses walked out of the room, leaving the young boy to his rest. That is, that's where he was standing until a young lady walked up to him. "That's him," he said quietly, "Mortimer Toynbee." 

"What do you want me to do?" 

"Simple cosmetics. Give him a hair change. Make it look natural. Something he can easily take care of, and won't make him look like a different person all together when it grows out or changes naturally." 

"That's not an easy thing to do," the blonde said, "But I'll give it a shot. You sure you want this all done when he's unconscious?" 

"When he wakes up," Magneto explained, "I want him to look in the mirror and see a new person looking back. He's had… a rough time back home." 

She looked at him through the glass for a moment, a motherly smile on her face. "Poor boy… I'm glad we have a new recruit of course, but still…" 

"I understand," Magneto said with an almost invisible smile, "But with our care he'll become the mutant he was meant to be. Now get to it." 

She walked into the room and began preparing her equiptment, but Magneto didn't stay to watch. Brain surgery, sure. Watching a woman have a go at a boy's hair? Not so fun. 

With that he walked away, into what the younger members liked to call the lounge. 

Everybody jumped up when they saw him walk in, and he smiled… he loved this. He loved knowing that he was in charge. That he was boss. Finally. 

"I have an announcement," he said loudly, and any hint of attention placed elsewhere was moved to him. "Earlier today, a new mutant arrived. Mortimer Toynbee. He'll be joining us from the infirmary tomorrow. He is the latest, and quite frankly the most useful mutant I've ever met." 

The looks of 'why' passed through the crowd, and Magneto continued onwards, "He has the power to block telepathy," the metal man said; some smiled in happy surprise, though some were still confused. "He has the power to block _Xavier_."

* * *

"It's just so hard to believe," Scott said sadly, from his place at the dinner table, "I mean, I never liked him or anything, but I always got the idea that if he just had a _chance_ at being good…" 

"And we never gave it to him…" Kitty said, just as sadly. "At least if he had been given a choice. I hated him too, but what if it was just because, like, we were enemies? What if he had been some totally different person, like, if he had joined us instead of the Brotherhood?" 

"Don't you lot remember?" Jean interrupted, a scowl set on her face, "We did give him a chance to decide! He made his decision, and that shows just what kind of a guy he is. Sure, I'm sad he's gone as well… Nobody deserves to die, but it was his choice! It's not like we could have changed it." 

The older mutants nodded, while the younger ones looked around in curiosity. They had given _Toad_ a chance to join the X-Men? When had this been? 

Kurt's eyes flashed for a moment as he too remembered, "Ja," he said, "I remember that. It was the same day I joined, he ran off. Vat a baby…" 

"Don't say that Kurt," came the sudden voice of Professor X, followed closely by Wolverine, "It was more my fault then his; do you remember at all just why he was running around terrified?" 

"Nein," Kurt replied in confusion, while everyone else watched in interest. 

"He was one of the first of your generation I asked to join, barring Jean and Scott of course," the Professor explained, "And for a while I'm afraid I had fallen into Magneto's way of thinking. I wanted to help people- but only those who could help me. I was, for all intents and purposes, creating an army. Toad's reaction, of course, showed me the error of my ways, and I went back to simply letting any mutant who needed to come, come." 

"What happened?" Jamie asked, his eyes wide. 

"Well," the older man explained carefully, "I thought to test him first. He wasn't any more then 16 at the time, and had never been in any real danger before as far as I could see. Scott had talked to me before hand, and we had both asked him to come to the institute…" 

His voice trailed off, the younger boys and girls were obviously wanting to hear more, and even the older recruits were interested. Nobody had ever really gotten the whole story- only Storm and the Professor knew it. "And then?" Jamie asked, "What happened then?" 

"As soon as he came onto the grounds we attacked him without warning. I had Storm shoot at him with lighting, to see how he reacted. Obviously it was badly, and I don't blame him at all… he was invited here, and we attacked him." 

Everybody was silent for a moment, digesting this information. Finally Cannonball said, "Am I glad you didn't do that to me," with a slight frown, "I might have run off too…" 

"My point exactly." The Professor said, "It wasn't his fault, and all he did was join the _only_ other group available. As far as he could tell, at least at first, he was only protecting himself." 

There was a long pause. 

"So," Scott said uncomfortably, "You've been on Cerebro then? Have you found him, or is he really…" he gulped, "you know?" 

The professor shook his head sadly. "I looked and looked… but I can't find his mind anywhere. Unless he managed to steal Magneto's helmet, which I much doubt, Todd Tolansky is dead." 

Everybody was quiet for a moment, but the sound of screeching forced them all to look at Wolverine. "So?" the older man said, "Are we gonna' eat dinner or what?"

* * *

_The living room was fairly dark. As usual, the shades were drawn. It was about four o'clock and he'd just come home. From work as a roofer. His face was tanned and leathery. A beer can in his hand. _

"Yeah, so what?" My father's voice. Raspy and cold. He sat on the couch, where he spent most of his time. Even spent the night there, too, now. With empty, tired eyes he stared at the TV. He had the scanner on as well. Tuned to a police band. Spouting a stream of mundane reports. 

I spoke cautiously. "Well, it's like an honour," I said, "I mean, the committee picked my drawing out from hundreds of entries. Just something I sketched during art class. I had no idea it would make the state show." 

I was hoping he would take me to the prizewinners' reception that weekend. Stupid. It wasn't like it was a big deal. But it would have been okay. 

"Do you get prize money?" he grumbled casually, not even turning to look at me. 

"No," I said, knowing that this would be the end of the conversation. 

"No? So then what's it worth? If it won't help pay the bills, what good is it?" He glanced at me patronizingly, then back to the TV. "When I was about your age I had a job. At this car lot. Washing the cars. All the money went to my mother. It was tight…" He broke off and leaned back on the couch. 

I stood there at the foot of the stair, unable to move. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. Couldn't show him that. 

I told myself, 'No big deal, Morty. Just some dumb drawing. No big deal. 

To him I said, "Yeah, well, it was just an idea." 

No answer. 

I dragged myself upstairs to my room. Walked across to the window. I could cry up here where no one would see. 

Stupid to cry. 

Then, through blurry eyes I watched a car pull up to a house across the street. A mom and daughter got out. Walked together to the front door. The little girl was carrying a page smeared with finger paint, crumpling it a little as she walked. The mother stopped, took the picture from her daughter, and carried it into the house like it was the Mona Lisa. 

It was like someone had set out to shove my life in my face. "Here, Morty, take a look. Take a look at your life, and at the lives of normal kids. Take a good long look. 

I was a freak. I was alone. 

Where would my strength come from? 

I raised a hand to brush away the tears. 

A hand that was… fingers that were… 

Green. 

Webbed. 

I whipped around to face the mirror. Round, swampy eyes stared back at me.

* * *

Woo! I would like to note first that I got the above bit, (or at least a great deal of it) from Animorphs #33, then altered it too fit Toad. 

Well, who to dedicate this chapter to? :) I figure that since we delved a bit into Toad's past (or least this stories version of it) I would as well! So, to **ldypebsaby** I dedicate this chapter! My first Morty reviewer! Congrats **ldypebsaby**, and keep up the reviewing! 


	8. 7th Chapter

**

Morty

**  
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_Some little kid out there, playing in the sand, is one day going to be an astronaut; the girl playing on the monkey bars is going to be a world class gymnast; the baby watching from the picnic table will be a famous chief. Too bad that other little boy on the swings is going to be the janitor at the local high school. Not everybody gets to be incredible when they grow up._

Before he was even awake, he began a low, defeated moan. It was hot, like an oven on high. Warmer, and warmer still. How much oxygen could there be? 

And the darkness… The darkness was complete. Total. And he could hear nothing; no sound but his own irregular breathing. But when sensation began to drift back to him, he knew that it was dark because his eyes were closed tightly, trying to protect himself from the dream. No… the memory. He had even buried himself deep into his blankets; that was where the heat was coming from. 

Todd Tolansky, though even in his own mind he was now Mortimer Toynbee, slowly opened his eyes and winced at the bright light. It was dazzling; cones and rods shot to hell and back… but slowly his eyes adjusted and rational thought took over. He knew what had happened… that man, Mastermind, had messed with his mind. 

He shook his head in confusion… everything seemed different… everything felt just a little off kilter. Just enough. He stood slowly, pushing the blankets off of him with a light shove, and immediately tilted off to the side. He had barely started to fall though when he was able to catch himself from falling to the ground. 'Oh yeah,' he thought to himself, 'That would be why…' 

From what he could remember he been turned… changed… and then everything got a bit fuzzy at that point. He knew though that the basic fact was, Magneto had set up a secret plan, and Mastermind had changed his memories. 

"Bloody hell…" he muttered quietly, "This is weird…" 

He knew he was supposed to be Todd Tolansky. He _knew_ it… be he also knew he was Mortimer Toynbee… that he always had been. But things were different now. This was… 

Slowly he lifted one hand a placed his head in it. It hurt… the lights were too bright as it was, and that was nothing on top of the pounding headache, born simply from the memory change… but no, something was different about _this_ too… 

Slowly he dragged his hand through his hair, shocked at how light it felt. Hard in the front as if somebody had gelled it, but almost fluffy in the back- except for where the bald spot was. He could feel it, a patch, hidden underneath his hair, that had nothing on it but a thick and obvious scar. 

"Brill," he whispered sarcastically and quietly to himself, not knowing if anybody was watching him, "They did it," he said in wonder, "They actually got that chip in me…" 

Anger flooded through him, even through the strange sensation of excitement. This was his chance. A chance at a real life. But no… Yes, he had agreed to have his memory changed, and yes he had agreed to have the chip in him… but they could have at least told him how it was all going to happen. Now he was completely knackered, and worse, it seemed like he was missing his entire kit. 

He wondered for a moment just who had gone and undressed him, and hoped against hope that it was the doctor who had done the surgery. A doctor doing it, sure. It was all a job there. But one of the acotolytes? Not exactly something he would fancy knowing. 

He looked around the room, still squinting in the bright lights, but his gaze fell on a nicely pressed piled of clothing. He looked at them for a moment, feeling them in his hands. These weren't the rags that he was used to but designer labels. Black pants, not overly tight but not overly baggy either. A pair of sneakers that looked like they would fit properly… boxers were there too, as well as a pair of blue socks. There were even gloves like Lance's, though he knew they weren't something he would ever feel comfortable wearing. And on top of the pile was a forest green shirt- thicker then your average piece, and long sleeved. 

Apparently he wasn't the only person who had noticed it was chilly in Magneto's metal base. 

Getting dressed quickly he took another look around the room, this time taking far more in. It looked far too much like a cell for his taste. Not for a prison, but maybe for a mental institution. It was white all over, which, he realized, was what was actually causing him to squint. Soft white linoleum tiles covered the ground, and likewise the walls were free of colour. 

There was a piece of fabric hanging in the middle of the room, acting as a room divider, and when he looked behind it he saw a toilet, sink, mirror and shower. Other then that the room was just a white, small bedroom with a bed pressed against one wall and a small table beside it. 

He turned back to the 'bathroom' and pulled the room divider shut again, just in case somebody decided to take just this moment to come in and check on him, and began to get dressed. 

He watched himself in the mirror the whole time, amazed by what he saw. It was him. Mortimer Toynbee in all his excellence. Something he had never seen before. There was no green on him. There were no warts. There was no dirt. And he couldn't smell anything besides the sanitized smell of shampoo and conditioner. 

His hair was cut short, though the hair where the bangs should have been was gelled to stay upwards, making his forehead look bigger then it should. It looked totally natural… and yet so totally not. It looked like he was looking at a picture of another person. 

Walking back into the bedrooms he wished for a moment for something to read. He could remember a love for reading… and yet he couldn't remember what was actually _in_ any of those books. He couldn't remember for the life of him _what_ he had been reading, just that he had. 

He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind. Taking a step towards the bedside table he wondered if there was anything in it. There was a small drawer there, and inside it three hand books. One of them was obviously a mechanics book, another piloting, and another… the arts. It was a book simply made of pictures upon pictures of things that had been painted both long ago and recently. 

Taking the book he sat down on his bed and began to leaf through it. He had no idea how long it would be until somebody came along to get him.

* * *

Pyro walked down the hallway cheerfully, whistling an annoying, yet addictive tune. He didn't know where he had heard it, or even if he had just made it up, but it was there in the front of his mind- so why not? 

He was busy looking for the one room that Magneto had pointed out, 17A. It was weird though, they all looked the same after a while and Pyro found himself quickly growing board. After all, there was _so_ much more he could be doing. …Like setting the hem of Gambits trench-coat on fire. 

But no, orders were orders. He had to go and get the new guy, and bring him to the gym where he and Sabertooth would train him. Sabertooth in hand to hand, and Pyro with weapons. After all, other then a couple of flying cards, everybody in Magneto's men thought that the only way to fight was with powers. But guns and weapons? They were something that Pyro _really_ enjoyed. Especially projectiles that could be flaming. 

With another sharp whistle he found the door he had been looking for, and entered. It was a lot like his room, but completely blank and empty. Pyro wondered for a moment how the new recruit would go about decorating it, but quickly found that really- he didn't care. 

"G'day mate!" he said happily, a sing-son quality in his voice, to the boy lying on the bed, "I'm Pyro, you are?" 

The boy looked up, surprise written across his features. It was obvious he had been absorbed in his book… _'Pictures?'_ Pyro thought with a laugh, _'An artist eh? Well, that has gotta be a first.'_

"Umm…" the boy said nervously, sitting up, "Mortimer," he muttered, "But people call me Morty." 

"Don't blame ya a mite," the aussie replied, his grin too wide for his face, "What's your codename then?" 

"I don't have one yet," he replied, standing up; shocking Pyro with how tall he was. Hell, _Gambit_ was going to be threatened by this guy. 

"Well we can't have that!" Pyro said, "My name's St. John, but I don't go 'round committin' acts of terrorism on it. Not like you're goin' strike fear or whatever goin' round the place as Mortimer." 

"Probably not," was the reply. 

"Well then, Magneto says your powers are telepathic blockin' right?" When he received a nod of confirmation he continued, "So somthin' to do with stoppin' minds. Something either really obvious, or somethin' you really have to think about works for codenames. Most people go by the obvious." 

"I'm not most people," the reply came quickly, "And I'm really not ready for a codename, alright?" 

Pyro stood there, a look of thought on his face as he contemplated codenames anyway. "Stop-gap? No, that's horrible. Think-tank? Hidden? Depth? Black? Any of these agreein' with ya?" 

"Nope," Morty replied, "Let's go." 

Pyro sighed deeply, but decided that now wasn't the time anyway. Sabertooth was waiting afterall, and one didn't want to keep the big cat waiting. "We'll come on then!" he said with a laugh, "We've got to get ya all trained up now!" 

Pyro left then, whistling his tune again, despite the obvious look of disgust of Toad's face. _'Stupid aussie,'_ he thought to himself, _'Trying to get me to have a new code-name. Toad forever!'_

Through endless hallway after endless hallway Toad followed Pyro, never actually realizing what St. John had been saying. 

It was only when he was pushed into a side room covered in mats, with Sabertooth standing in the middle of the room, a manical smile on his face, that it hit him. _'I have to fight **Sabertooth**?!'_ he thought in shock, _'And without powers?'_

He was this close to turning away, hoping to get out of the room while he still had a chance, when he realized Pyro had locked the door behind him. "Little shit," he muttered, "If I survive this, I'm gonna' kill him." 

Sabertooth heard him however. 

"If?" the big cat grinned, "Oh, don't worry kid. You'll survive. Barely." 

And he attacked.

* * *

Since this chapter didn't really have anything to do with any reviewer in particular, I've chosen to pick a person at random... **Maiden Genisis**! So to you **Maiden Genisis** goes Pyro, Toady, and Sabertooth! The only chapter you'll ever see Pyro in is all yours! Enjoy!  
  
Actually, I'm gonna' share with you lot a secret... I wasn't intending to post this for another week. I know I updated the last chapter only like, yesterday, so this was iffy... but I had something important to tell you all. I have a page (but make the address without the spaces)-- ht tp :o cx me nr pg .p ro bo ar ds 7. co m/ in de x. cg i

I'm having a bit of trouble planning the story out, and noticing that I'm leaving some nasty plot holes sometimes. Anyway, come to that site and you can tell me about it much easier; any problems you have with understanding what's going on, anything you notice has been oddly written, etc... When, and if, I write alternate chapters, they'll be posted here also. I'm also holding a vote on whether I'm going to have romance, slash, or nothing at all. Anyway, come to the site and have your say. You don't need to be a member to post, though if you are and you get really into it... well, I _am_ looking for a beta...


	9. Interlude

**Morty**  
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

**Interlude** **1**

_Not all pain is gain._

It was dark… everything was dark. Everything was painful. He could feel it, the sun, the lights, trying to get in… but he wouldn't let it. No. Blissful black nothingness. 

He couldn't deal with it. It hurt. His eyes, his face, everything. He could remember… 

It had felt like he was crying, blood running down his face like tears, coming from his eyes. He could feel something… His lungs exploding as he screamed, but more then that... 

He could feel his mutation kicking in, trying to 'fix' the broken bits and piences of his body. Fix what Shadow was trying to take away from him, even as he just sat there, staring. Forge knew he could only turn his arms into different tools, but his body still liked to make sure everything was working properly- that was why he hadn't aged when he was in the side dimension in the school. Only partly there, for forty years, and yet he hadn't aged a minute. 

No, his body wanted things working properly. Even his eyes. _Especially_ his eyes. 

He could feel his eyes healing as Shadow did… whatever he did. All he could remember was the blood, running down his face… and it hurt so much… 

Forge gasped, quietly, when he felt the touch of something on his face. A gloved hand. 

"Wakey wakey," a slow, low, voice called, "You don't want to keep me waiting…" 

Shadow. Shadow had done this to him. Hurt him. Laughed while it was happening… he had been so sure he would be blind, his eyes ripped right from his head… but they were there. He could feel them. Painful. 

"Have you re-thought my… proposition?" Shadow asked. 

Forge wanted to say he wouldn't do it. He wanted to tell him to go to hell. But his voice was weak from screaming, and instead he shook his head… 

He had been trying to say no. He had tried to shake his head back and forth. 

But it hurt so much… 

He nodded. 

"Fine," he rasped, "Fine… just…" he couldn't finish what he wanted to say. He didn't know how to say it… 

"Just do as I say," Shadow finished for him, "And we'll get along just fine." 

He could hear Shadow walking away, the heels of his boots on the metal floor. 

And carefully, so carefully, Forge opened his eyes. 

Light flooded them, and he shut his eyes quickly. There was a headache now… and it hurt all the more. Everything hurt. 

But at least now he knew he could still see…

* * *

_A Note from Maikafuiniel: Hey there people! I got a review from somebody (**todd fan** in fact, lol) asking if Forge was dead. Well, since this is an interlude I'm not going to dedicate this to anybody, but just so you know **todd fan**, this one was written with you in mind! Forge is alive, Shadow just wanted to... persuade him to do what he wanted. Get it? :)_


	10. 8th Chapter

**Morty**  
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_The best leaders inspire by example. When that fails, brute intimidation works pretty well too._

Sabertooth charged at Toad, a feral grin on his face and one hand pulled taunt in a fist- but seconds before impact he stopped and laughed evilly. Todd had found himself backed into the corner, his back pressed flat against the cold metal wall; and both of his eyes were tightly shut against what he had thought to be a charging killer. When he heard the other man laughing however, he slowly peaked one eye open to watch him- and on seeing he wasn't about to kill him, ran to the door and tried to pull it open. He pulled, shook, and swore, but it wasn't opening. It was still, shock and surprise, locked. 

Sabertooth saw the wide, obviously scared eyes, and laughed again. "You done bug?" he asked rhetorically, as Toad knew that the man cared nothing how he felt. "Hey," he said, "I told you that you weren't gonna' die," he growled, "You think I'm not good on my word?" 

Toad shook his head quickly, and Sabertooth quelled the desire to laugh again. This kid was just so easy! "Anyway," he drawled slowly, backing off some so the boy would remember to breath, "I wouldn't lower myself to fightin' a bug like you at any rate." 

For one thing this had to be the longest sentence Toad had ever heard from Sabertooth, leastwise one that didn't involve growling. But hearing that he _didn't_ have to fight the hulking mutant, well that was a major plus. He shook his head slightly, berating himself on the inside. _'Magneto needs you now. He wouldn't have the Tooth take you down after all that brainy stuff.'_

"Brill," he said slowly, "But… um… Pyro did say-" 

"That I'm gonna' turn you into somebody actually worth noticing on the battlefield?" Sabertooth asked with a toothy grin, "'Cause if he said anything else-" 

"No!" Toad butted in quickly, "No, that was it." 

Sabertooth snorted in disbelief, then stepped to the side to reveal a tall black punching bag hanging from the ceiling. "Have at it kid. I want to see your punching before we start on anything else." 

Aware, and nervous, about the following eyes Todd walked slowly to the punching bag- being careful to give Sabertooth a wide berth at all times. Drawing back a fist he went to punch the bag; when a sudden hand on his shoulder pulled him away. 

"What the fuck was that?" Sabertooth asked in anger. 

"A would-be punch?" Todd replied, knowing he was going to get reamed out and not knowing what for. "If you had actually let me do it-" 

"Against another mutant," Sabertooth interrupted, "You would have gotten squashed, bug. Right there and then." 

"But I'm not against another mutant," Toad replied, anger rising to the surface. He had a headache, he was tired, and he was legally dead. This was just a really fucked day from the beginning, and now he was just getting sick and tired of the other mutant. Magneto wouldn't let Sabertooth kill him- hell, he probably wouldn't let the big cat _hurt_ him. "I'm against a bloody punching _bag_! It's not going to punch me back!" 

Sabertooth stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to react. He had never been yelled at before, besides for his father. And his father… well, he was long since dead and he didn't have to worry about the ass anymore. Even Wolverine had never yelled, they had just gotten right into the fighting. And yet here was this bug, who he could kill without a thought ('who the hell cared what Magneto thought anyway'), yelling at him. 

It was almost funny. 

Almost. As in, not quite. 

He considered killing the kid, quickly earning the nickname 'bug', but decided against it. This guy was nothing but a weak wuss, and it was his job to train him. A major challenge, to say the least. And it wasn't that often Sabertooth came across a challenge. 

Carefully he stepped back behind the punching bag, and before Toad could give it a thought he shoved it forward into the boy throwing him backwards and onto his butt. "From now on shit face," he said, "You punch it right, or it _does_ punch back. And it'll punch harder then that, I promise." 

"Fine." Toad said shortly as he stood, finally beginning to feel where he was supposed to balance to stay upright, "Whatever." He stopped and got ready to punch again when he stopped, Sabertooth watching him with angry eyes. 

"What is it?" Todd sighed. 

"You don't even know what you did wrong last time, and you're going to try again?" Sabertooth asked with a growl, obviously angry, "You're gonna' get yourself killed like that." 

"What do you care?" Todd asked, actually wondering. Why wasn't he dead after all of his backtalk? Was Sabertooth really all bark? 

"I don't care." the big cat answered, "But I got me a job, and I'm gonna' do it even if you're dead by the time it's done. Punch again," he ordered suddenly, "this time from a stance." 

Toad shrugged lightly, and turned back to the punching bag. Without giving a thought to what he was doing he automatically went into the fighting position he had always used- and promptly fell back again. "Or this is bloody brilliant," he said sarcastically from his place on the floor, "I can't balance right this way, I can't balance right the way I used to, this is just great." 

Sabertooth watched the boy mutter, and finally broke in, "Where did you learn that stance from?" he asked, genuinely curious, "It looked a lot like wart-breath's, but he wouldn't have fallen over." 

"Never mind." Toad said, angry at the comment and unable to retort, "Just tell me how you want me to do this." 

And on that note Sabertooth finally smiled. Sure it was even more scary then the growl, but it was a smile none the less. "One fist in front of your face," he explained, "To block any incoming punching. One at about your chest. Don't put them too far out, and keep your body angled so that the hand in front of your face can have a longer reach. Bend both your legs, and place one about two steps in front of you, the other two steps behind." 

Toad tried to stand the way that Sabertooth showed him, more relying on the stance that he had seen fighters using in Kung-Fu movies then anything, until finally getting it right enough that Sabertooth would nod. "Alright then, what next?" 

"Punch it." was the simple reply. 

Toad smiled grimly as he stared hard into the punching bag, finally letting the fist that was in front of his face sink into the bag. It barely moved at all, but the plus side was that he didn't fall over. 

"What was that?" Sabertooth asked, obviously not looking for an answer, because he continued on, "That was bull. That was the weakest punch I have ever seen." 

"So sorry," Todd replied sarcastically, "Next time I'll put all the imaginary power I have into it as well. Not all of us are freaky muscle men you know." 

Sabertooth sighed and nearly placed his head in his hands. This was going to have to be a miracle. "Fine," He growled, "We'll go back to your sissy punch later. Now let's hope you have a kick worth mentioning, or I'm just gonna' kill you now." 

Toad gulped, noticing how Sabertooth had not even said it in a threatening way. To him in was all simple facts. Morty piss off Sabertooth. Morty not worth his time. Morty annoying. Long time since lunch. Conclusion? Eat Morty. 

"This time," the big cat replied, "Put all your weight on your front foot, then bring your back one up until your knee is almost touching your chin- then shoot your lower leg out. It's a simple front kick- even you should be able to accomplish that much." 

Todd turned back to the bag and this time concentrated even harder. He had to do this. He had to prove, not to Sabertooth but to himself, that it hadn't been all his powers. That he could fight plenty well on his own. When he had gotten into fights before he had always been first into the battle, last to leave. Pietro had used his powers to confuse people and make them hit their own team-mates. The blob just ran into people. Lance just hoped one of his rocks or earthquakes would hit somebody important. But he, he had done the fighting. He had been the one who would get down and dirty, punching and kicking with everything he had. 

He could do this. 

He had to do this. 

With all the power he could muster, he pulled his leg up quickly and brought it forward. He fell backwards afterwards, but watched as the bag swung backwards, hitting Sabertooth in the face. It swung wildly after that, back and forth, and he watched on in shock. 

"Alright," Sabertooth said when it finally stopped, "Good. Not great, but good. You don't have any coordination. You don't have any balance. You can't aim to save your life. But," he replied with an almost-smile, "you have one hell of a kick." 

Todd found himself smiling zanily at the compliment. Sabertooth, the arch nemesis of the infamous Wolverine and one of the worlds most hunted criminals, thought he had a good kick. 

"We're gonna work on it," Sabertooth said, "You're a wimp, but you're a wimp with _natural_ potential now. Congrats, you just surpassed Pyro and Gambit." 

With that he turned away, calling over his shoulder, "You practice that," he said, "I want my dinner, and it's gonna' take a while to catch something big enough." He ignored Todd's shudder. 

Before walking out the door he turned, "Hey bug, what did you say your name was?" 

"Mortimer." he replied shortly, wondering why Sabertooth would care, "I know, it's stupid-" 

"Better then Victor." was the short reply. 

He knocked three times, the door opened, and he was gone. Todd watched the door for a moment, then stood to face the bag again. He didn't know why it was important… he hated Sabertooth with a passion… but still. 

Just… still. 

And he stood in his stance and tried the kick again.

* * *

Well, today is a very special day people! Okay, this is technically only chapter 8, but with the interlude and prologue, I've hit 10 chapters. I figured that this point was as good as any to say to **Guin**, this chapter is all yours! You reviewed once and said that this story would be infinate as long as new people kept coming: well, there hasn't been new people, but you made me realize that I have to hit at LEAST 14 more actual chapters before I can let myself stop! So to you **Guin**, goes the first training chapter! Enjoy!


	11. 9th Chapter

**Morty**  
_By Maikafuiniel_

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_Well, I wouldn't normally do this… but I have a day off today, and poor **Guin **out there has chem homework that has her depressed! So, since I have so much time on my hands (Yay for days off!), I have yet another chapter! And to you Guin, goes this one. I would never dedicate two to you, and to nobody else, so this is just kind of… in your honour, like the interlude was for todd fan._

_As for our depression qoute of the day: No one can make you feel inferior without your consent, but you'd be a fool to withold that from your superiors! **Find more of these qoutes, and other fun stuff, at my web-site!**_

Magneto sat at his desk, his face impassive as he looked at the thin man in front of him. "What do you think," he asked, a slight twinge of anger in his voice in case his answer was contrary to what the master of magnetism wanted, "Will he be working for us from now on?" 

Shadow tilted his head slightly forward before answering. "He flinches if I so much as walk into the room; but I've had to attack him three times already. It's only been about eight hours since he came, but he's starting to show signs of breaking. He says he'll follow… but at hour later have courage back. It will take more time, but I have no doubt he will _eventually_ be under our complete control." 

"Eventually?" was the stoic reply, "And if I were to say that wasn't good enough?" 

"Sir," Shadow replied, an edge in his voice, "I am the best that there is. If I say he will be under control eventually, I mean it. And if you change people, it will only take longer and be less thorough. The best plan, as I'm sure you realize, is simply to wait." 

"I must have those machines done by the time this school year is out!" Magneto spat, "Half the X-Men are in the graduating class, and if they are free to fight against me for so much more of the day, I will surly fall! I simply don't have the fire-power that Xavier has managed to build up!" 

"And they will be done," the scientist replied, "But it will take time. I guarantee they will be done-" 

"They had better be," Magneto said, standing up quickly, "You do not want to face the consequences of an angry me. I assure you." 

Shadow stood carefully, trying to maintain some dignity as he backed towards the door. "Of course sir, but if you want it done quickly I should be getting back to the boy right about now. Where did you find him anyway?" 

The question was met with a disbelieving snort. "You think I would simply tell you like that? We run a need-to-know facility here Shadow, as you would do well to learn." 

At that moment a knock came from the door, and Shadow took it as the perfect opportunity to run as far away from harm as possible. Sabertooth shot him a deadly look as they brushed each other, but quickly dismissed him. 

"Mags," he said, "Checked the kid out, like you ordered." 

Magneto sat back down on his seat, trying to compose himself so he didn't look quite as much like the angry dictator he had been just a moment ago. "And what do you have to report?" he asked in a monotone way, "I hope it's good news." 

"Some," Sabertooth grunted, "How old is the kid anyway? He's having a hell of a time doing some of the simple stuff, he should have learned to fight by now." 

"Only 16, though he does look older. Once he's trained he'll be put into the tenth grade, where he'll be able to watch some of the up and coming X-Men more carefully then we would be able to do from here." 

"You trainin' him to be a spy then?" the big cat asked in confusion, "Doesn't look like much. Gotta' admit though, he wouldn't do any good as a fighter. Has a punch my gram could take without a flinch." 

"As entertaining as the thought of you having a grandmother is," Magneto said with a snarl, "Do you have any good news to report at all?" 

Sabertooth gave a slight shrug, "If he had grown up in a fightin' family, the kid would have been one hell of a scrapper. He has a kick from hell, 'course I didn't say so." 

"Of course." 

"He just needs to learn to aim. …And to be able to stand up right. Swear to god, three times that kid went tumbling for no reason. Made me want to rip him up just so I wouldn't have to watch again. Embarrassin'." 

"So he has potential?" 

"I would put him up with some kind of martial arts deal, he ain't gonna' learn much from me at any rate. I fight street style. Down and dirty. He's too…?" 

"Wimpy?" 

"Not wimpy really… just not the type I think. He needs to learn stances and things, he'll have more power then." 

"Your input is, as always Sabertooth, invaluable." 

"Yeah, well, don't tell nobody, I have a rep you know." 

"But of course; the stupid hulking mass, how could I forget." He stopped, smiled at his long time friend and colleague, and said, "Do you have somewhere you need to be then?" 

Sabertooth nodded, angry but uncaring at the same time, leaving Magneto to his own devices. 

Magneto frowned slightly as he positioned himself on his chair carefully. 'This damn cape,' he thought to himself, 'I simply can't find a position that's comfortable.' 

After a few moment of re-arranging he pulled out several sheets of paper. He hadn't been planning on using these for at least another month… but it would do the boy good to get him some fresh air after surgery. He would be placed in a karate school, and get 'home-educated' as well as possible. Perhaps the X-Men would even see him around town and get used to him before he was placed in Bayville high. And in a month… well, that was when his plan would start taking effect.

* * *

Todd was still in the training room trying to attack the bag when Magneto came in, however he didn't hear the door opening and so kept going on his attack. Magneto winced slightly when he bag came back at him and hit him in an unfortunate spot; but almost clapped upon seeing the rest of the one sided fight. 

It seemed that just getting up and around more then he had been was helping his balance; all he had needed was to get used to the change in his centre of gravity. He still seemed tipsy, and ready to fall over, his moves weren't smooth, but they were still something that he would expect from one learning to fight for the first time. 

He agreed with Sabertooth on what the boy was like during a fight as well. He was well built, yes, but it was all natural. T was nothing he had gained from working out. He was therefore thinner then your average teen, though not strangely so; he was, in fact, thicker then Pietro which was saying something. 

He was lean, Magneto decided, and his body did seem to lend him more towards the martial arts then street warfare. "Mortimer," he called out, stopping Toad in his tracks only moments away from yet another kick, "Good job." he applauded, "Better then I expected so soon." 

"Rubbish," the younger boy replied, "I used to be a lot stronger, a lot better, and you know it." 

"Perhaps," Magneto said with a grin, "But you've gone through quite an extraordinary change. Most of your fighting ability before was based on your mutation-" 

"No it wasn't," Toad replied, his face angry, "I had a mutation, sure, but I learned to fight on my own. It's just the _way_ I fought before. Everything I knew has to be adapted now, and it's not easy." 

"I never told you it was." 

"Yeah… well, whatever." Toad said, a slight creek in his voice, "Anyway, you don't seem like the type to come down just to tell me I'm doing a good job on fighting badly." 

"Quite right," Magneto replied, business like, "I've decided I'm going to let you out of here for now. I'm going to sign you up for some outside fighting classes-" 

"Why can't I just learn here?" 

"Everybody here has a fighting style much more compared to a street gang. Sabertooth feels you're meant for a more stylised form. Kung-Fu. Karate. Kick-Boxing. It's really your choice in the end, I have no particular interest for any one over the other." 

"Brill," he said quietly, before asking, "Am I allowed out for anything more then that?" 

"But of course. You'll stay in your room, of course, from eleven at night to seven in the morning, and will be home taught here. As you might have noticed from the books, I want you to focus some of your education on mechanics and piloting." 

"Why those?" 

"Because those are the two area's in which my other followers are lacking, and therefore would make you the most useful to me." 

Todd nodded. 

"Since Xavier can't read your mind, and otherwise you're completely normal, I see no problem with you leaving the lair during the afternoons. Of course you will be under strict rules, no socializing with the Brotherhood any more then comes natural to any particular passing person. As far as they are allowed to know, you are dead. The only people who know otherwise are you, Mastermind, and myself." 

"'kay then," Todd nodded, "What about the X-Geeks?" 

"You've never heard of them before," Magneto said with a snarl, "Never call them that name again, it will only recall memories of the Brotherhood, and let them know who you really are. Really _were_. You've never heard of them more then the news broadcasts would let you hear. Understand." 

"Sir yes sir," Todd replied loudly with a snort and a fake salute, "Got it. I'm new in town, living with my uncle and his family who are reclusive, and get home schooled." 

"Exactly." 

Both stood there for a moment, Todd in amazement that this was the man who was wanted in so many places for terrorist attacks, and Magneto in shock that this was the little stinker he had grown to hate. 

Neither was so bad. 

"Well?" Magneto asked with a fake cheered smile, much like the one he had always given Pietro as a young child, "I'm sure you've been copped up in the lair quite long enough. Gambit is going out today, I'm sure he'll show you the door." 

And with that Todd was gone.


	12. 10th Chapter

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Morty  
_By Maikafuiniel_

****

Authors Note: Ahh! Look at that! It's been like, four, going on five months! Bad Maika! punch …Yeah. So I had a bad day at work and was like, "I need to write something." I looked through all my stories, and didn't want to write any more of them, and then I was like… "hey, look at that! Morty! When did I last… oops. I'll do that one."  
So here I am.

This chapter is going to be dedicated to **tapdancing humbugs**, who I'm quite sure is quite insane. But that's okay, because so was the amount of time I made you all wait for this chapter!

****

Chapter 10  
Morty frowned inwardly as he wandered around the base. He had been given a day off by Magneto of all people, and he couldn't even find his way to the front door. This would never have happened if he still had his powers- he had been an amphibion before, and much more likely to sense temperture change. Or fresher air. Or… well, anything really. Something that would have given him a better idea of where he was going.

With an angry growl he continued on his way, turning a corner and running smack into somebody else. He fell to the ground, and with a sigh pushed himself back up. _I'm never going to get used to these feet_, he thought to himself, _Just gonna' embaress myself forever and ever and ever…_

He dusted his new clothing off quickly, not wanting to get in trouble for messing them up before he could even get outside, and took a moment to look at who he had crashed into.

It was no wonder he had fallen.

"Umm… hi," he mumbled, "Sorry about that- I mean, I didn't mean to get in your way or anything-"

"It is alright," the metal man said in reply, his voice polite and calm despite his apperance, "I am Piotr, have we met?"

Mortimer shook his head, confused at the fact that the man wasn't trying to smash him into pieces, before remembering that he was just an average kid now. He didn't have to worry about things like that based purely on apperance. "No," he mumbled, still embarrassed, "No. I'm new here. Mortimer- but people call me Morty. I was just, um, looking for the front door actually. And Gambit maybe."

Piotr nodded silently, and made a 'follow-me' motion with his hand as he walked by the young boy. Morty cursed when he realized just how much of the hallway he was revisiting, but was able to memorize the layout this time.

"Gambit," Piotr said from the doorway, "This is Mortimer. He was looking for you."

With that simply expination he turned and left, leaving Morty standing in the doorway surrounded by the most powerful of Magneto's men.

And yet somehow, he didn't manage to embaress himself by falling over, saying something stupid, or just being generally immature.

Gambit agreed to drive him out to Bayville and leave him at the mall. From there, he would be on his own.

Toad wandered through the park, watching the people around him in mild amazement. Nobody was staring at him. Little kids weren't commenting. And among the shocks was the fact that a fly had landed on his nose, and all that had happened was that his hand came up and swatted it away naturally.

There was a part of him that wanted to eat it, but he knew he'd never catch it in his new condition- so there was little point in actually trying. On the other hand…

He changed directions, and started heading towards the mall. A new shop had opened up about a month ago in the mall, and he had been wanting to visit since the second Lance had told him about it. They sold delicacies.

Now, normally somebody like Toad wouldn't be interested in eating dog, or fish eggs; but they did have one thing that managed to catch the attention of an amphibion mutant.

Chocolate coverered grasshoppers.

He had never had enough money to go there before, but while he had been with Gambit he had mentioned how he had no money on him. Gambit had mentioned theft, but Morty really wanted to give this whole new good-guy persona a go. He said so, and with that Gambit had passed him what looked to be almost a fifty dollars in cash.

More then anybody had just given to him in his entire life. Pick-pocketing didn't count.

Thanks had been exchanged, but he hadn't even attempted to give the money back. The plain and simply fact in the end of all things was that he really would need the money- if not now, then eventually. And if Gambit was throwing money away, he was hardly going to try and stop the man.

When he finally got there, he was shocked to see a familiar face in line. "C'mon Scott, vat is zee point in living if you don't try new things once in a vhile?"

Morty frowned and almost decided to turn around- if he got into line now, he would be right behind the X-Men. On the other hand, the point of going out like this was so that they could see him and get used to him being around town.

"Kurt," came a firm reply, "I like new. I revel in new. But I refuse to eat that."

"But it's on zale!"

"And I shudder to consider why."

"Jean, vhat about you? Chicken?"

"If it was chicken I wouldn't have anything to say against it," came a more joking reply, "But Scott's right Kurt, it really is… gross."

"Itz just horse! I used to eat it all zee time!"

"No." was the duel reply.

"Fine!" he said simply, "…how about some steer?"

Jean and Scott both thought about it for a moment, and nodded, happy with the offer. After all, they reasoned, Steer was just like cow, and cow was eaten all the time! What could be wrong with that?

By this point they had reached the front of the line, with Morty standing behind them. They ordered, and stepped to the side in order to take a taste-test of their purchase.

Until they noticed everybody staring at them.

Even the cashiers.

Morty sniggered silently, and took his own grasshoppers. They had seen him, noticed him- that would be enough of that for the day. Now he could go off and enjoy himself in the park; maybe even play with a dog, now that he didn't stink enough to send them running.

Unfortunatly his snigger was the only sound of those watching the X-Men, and Scott caught on quickly. "What is it?" he asked, holding the steer meat as far as he could away from him, in confusion, "What's wrong?"

Morty tried to walk away, but Jean looked directly at him. "You know," she asked, "don't you?"

"I know some," he replied, still wanting to laugh some more, "But I gotta' go-

"Seriously," Scott kept going, "What is it?"

Morty quickly glanced at Kurt, who had already finished chomping down on his- and obviously didn't want Jean and Scott to find out. The boy was shaking his head, 'no', hoping against hope that Morty would just walk away.

But then, who would ever give up the chance to get the infamous Nightcrawler in trouble?

"Well," Morty replied, "Steer isn't really a delicacy."

"But it's being sold in a delicacy shop," Scott replied, oblivious, "So obviously-"

"Obviously something's been done to it to make it a delicacy." Jean said, catching on, "Right?"

"Right," Morty said, "See, if you go to Spain or Mexico, you can watch bullfights. Steer fights. Whatever. And they beat each other into bloody high heaven, right?"

"Um, right," Scott replied, "so?"

"Well, you don't think they just keep the dead steer bodies, do you?"

"So these were bulls killed in bullfights?" Jean asked, turning a shade green, "In Mexico?"

"Or Spain," Morty laughed, "But… there's only one part of the body that's considered a delicacy from these things?"

"And what is that?" Scott asked slowly, because he was looking slightly green as well. In fact, the only person within hearing range who wasn't green was Morty.

"I'll leave that up to your imaginion," he just said, smiled, and walked away.

At that point Jean turned to the managed who had come out to see what the problem was- and she asked just what part of the steer they were supposed to be eating. Everybody in Bayville heard the mental shreak that followed.

__

That Night  
Jean sat on the couch with Kitty, when Xavier and Scott walked in. Her face was wrinkled in confusion, but it wasn't because of the show. Scott watched her for a moment before saying, "You're not still upset about what happened in the mall, are you Jean?"

"No." She said stiffly, "I mean, well, yes, I am. The professor was good enough to wipe everybodies minds, but I can't believe I just lost it like that. It's just so… _gross_."

"I know," Scott shuddered, "I hope karma get's Kurt back for that, but good."

She nodded, and smiled slightly at the thought, but was still confused. Xavier noticed, and wheeled over to her. "What's bothering you, Jean? What's wrong?"

Instead of answering him, she turned to Scott. "Remember that kid at the mall, who explained what it was to us?"

Scott nodded, and sat down beside her, placing one hand around her shoulders.

"I think he was a mutant- except he might not even know it."

"What do you mean?" Xavier asked, "Did you read something from him?"

"No," she replied, "It's just… when I'm around people, even when I'm not reading their minds, I can still _feel _them. Like background noise. I couldn't feel him, at all. It was like a blank spot. So I reached out, and it was like I was just being blocked. That's all."

"So he has telepathic power you think?"

"No. I know when people are reaching out, and he wasn't. But he was completely unreadable. Like, he wasn't even there. I could see him, I could smell him. Kind of like he had stayed the last month in a cabin. Not bad, just natural. But I couldn't feel his mind."

"A minor power then," the professor said, "He can block telepathic power. Interesting, I must say. I've never heard of anything like that, without telepathic power on the side."

"So what do we do then Professor, recruit him?" Scott asked, "I mean, we can always use more mutants on our side."

"I'm not sure," was the thoughtful reply, "He probably thinks he's completely normal- unless a telepath has actually told him of the trouble. We probably shouldn't bother him, except for the fact that if Magneto finds him out, he's in incredible danger."

"You think he would use the boy against us?" Wolverine said as he walked into the room, obviously having heard the conversation from the other room.

"I know he would." Xavier replied, "Scott. Talk to him. Befriend him. He doesn't have to be on our side, but I would appreciate knowing if he's on the enemies. If we ever do need to recruit him, it will be easier this way. Understand?"

Everybody nodded.

"Good," the professor said, "Now, if I'm not wrong, there's school tomorrow?"

And with that the X-Men all left for bed.

Not to far away, Morty was as well- happily, for the first time in his life. He had had a good day, from not having a fight with the X-Men just for going to a public mall, to being able to eat grasshoppers without being stared at. He had applied at a local gym for some kung-fu classes, picked up some books that he figured Magneto would like him to have, and even stopped at the movies.

Nobody had frowned when he chose to sit by them.

And another night in Bayville was complete.

__

TBC. No, Really.


	13. 11th Chapter

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Morty  
_By Maikafuiniel_

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Authors Notes: And this chapter will go out to lovely Zero-Vision! Mostly because I had zero-vision of me writing this chapter today, but it turned out that what was to be, was to be!

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Chapter 11  
Mortimer Toynbee brought up a towel to his face, to wipe away the water that still clung to his hair- he had finished his latest class at the gym, and had taken a shower to wash away the sweat when he was finished. It always surprised him just how much he was sweat after these classes, having never sweat before, but after two weeks of being relatively human these changes were coming forward more naturally.

He looked at himself in the gym mirror, scrutinizing his hair quietly- until finally pulling a bottle of gel from his bag. He couldn't imagine himself ever spending more then the time absolutely necessary to his survival in the bathroom before the change, but now that he actually _had_ something to be proud of, he was finding himself in front of the mirror several times a day.

When he was finally satisfied with how he looked, he pulled on a t-shirt and pair of jeans. They were bought a few days prior when he had gotten a chance to go out without a body guard. Not that Magneto would ever admit he had people following the younger boy, but that was perfectly fine with him. His battle skills were improving rapidly once he had gotten a hang of making his body move the way he wanted it to, but he still didn't want to get into any situation where he could end up dead. He couldn't just jump out of the way any more…

Forcing his thoughts and musings to go back into hybernation, he left the bathroom and was immediately confronted by his sensei. "Mortimer," Mister Bandii said happily, "You did well today."

"Thank you sir," Mortimer replied, "But you know how much I love doing classes focusing on the jumps."

"That I do." The teacher replied slowly, "You have a gift for the jumps."

"More then you know," Toad said under his breath, before continuing, "What exactly was it that you wanted then?"

"There is a place opening up here at the gym- sadly, nothing to do with the Karate and Kung-Fu department- just something with cleaning supplies and making sure that people who don't have memberships coming in. A job. I heard you taking with Michael the other day about getting one."

Morty raised one eyebrow, and smiled. A few weeks… and he was doing so well. It almost made him angry, that this was the life he had been missing while living with his mutation. If only his genes hadn't made him just that little bit different, he could have had one hell of a life. Something real.

Michael, one of the other boys in the class, was nice enough. Justin, Chris, and Thomas always hung out with him, and it seemed that they had a Brotherhood of their own. Sure, they weren't terrorists, but that didn't take away from the family-like relationship they had going on. And they had been nice to him. A gang had been nice to him.

Sarah and Jessie, the only girls in the class, were always watching him and giggling. At first he had been embarrassed, but when he heard a little bit of their conversation- something about how soft his hair looked, he couldn't be anything but complemented.

Even his home-schooling was going well. Now that he wasn't competing with an entire class of students, and with only geniuses as teachers, he was far along the road to catching up with his age group. The mechanics portion of the job seemed boring, but the piloting simulators had been nothing but cool. Not too long from now, he had been assured, he would be cleared to pilot helicopters. He would probably never get up to piloting a jet liner- but then, bringing people to their vacations wasn't exactly what Magneto had in mind when he had forced him to start learning.

Even the other members of Magneto's merry band of miscreants seemed to get on well with him.

His accent had faded, not entirely of course, but after the first burst of pure-British sound it had faded into an American lack-of-accent with a British twist. According to Sarah and Jessie, it was cute. Morty would just take their word for it.

"Sure!" he replied quickly, trying not to sound desperate, "I mean, yeah! That would be great!"

Bandii restrained the urge to laugh at the boy who seemed to be far too willing to indulge in the simple facts of human life for his own good. "I will see you tomorrow then, at six in the morning, sharp."

"Six?" Came the slow replied, "Um… in the evening?"

"You wish," the teacher laughed for real this time, "People exercise early Mortimer. You'll be paid eight dollars an hour of course, for your time, and you might even talk some of the members into teaching you a few things."

Morty agreed and turned to walk away, his thoughts moving quickly in his head. Sure, he wanted to get away from the base as much as possible- living in a world where he wasn't persecuted was turning out to be better then he could have imagined. And really Magneto only wanted him to be there for home-schooling… the part where he would have to report about the X-Men wouldn't come until he actually made some _real_ contact with them.

There was only one conclusion that he could come to. He shuddered. The horror! The drama! The sheer fact that he was going to actually be _asking_ for this!

Walking down the street, his eyes open in amazement at the mere thought, he spoke out loud. "I… I have to go back. I have to go to school."

* * *

Xavier sat in his chair, watching over the latest Danger Room session with Scott by his side. "The new recruits are coming along nicely," he said, without looking up at the boy, "Although there does seem to be some rivalry between Bobby and Amara."

"Well," Scott tried to defend his teammates, "It's nothing unnatural. Fire and Ice. Black and white. Once they have to fight together, really fight for their lives, they'll have figured out a way to work together- or to avoid each other when it really matters."

Xavier nodded, and pushed the finish button quickly as to give his smallest members a quick breather; turning to Scott he asked, "I forgot to mention it yesterday, but have you talked to the young boy at all yet? The one from the mall?"

Scott shook his head lightly. "Not yet. A few people have seen him wandering around town, usually alone but not always." He smiled for a moment then said, "I think Kitty has a crush, even if she won't say anything."

Xavier smiled in a fatherly fashion, "And?"

Scott stopped for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Honestly," he said, "I don't know how to approach him. Every time I try he gets out of there. Not quick enough to be suspicious, but he defiantly isn't going out of his way to make friends here in Bayville. On the plus side he's been acting the exact same whenever he sees a member of the Brotherhood- worse even. I don't think they've noticed him though, past a glance Quiet about his home life and past, or so I've heard. And we honestly don't know if he even realizes he's a mutant or not."

"And any news on Forge yet?"

"Still can't find him," Scott replied sadly, "I know he wanted to go and see his parents… and he was spending so much time in his lab trying to figure out how to age himself appropriately. For all we know, it worked and he's living the high life. But it's been weeks now, and we haven't found anything. I don't know what we're going to do."

The professor looked upset, but not unwilling to accept the fact that the boy may have simply left. "He can take care of himself," Xavier said, "He's a strong boy. It would help if we had some sort of contact with him. A phone call. A note. Morse code would even suit when it comes down to it. I just hate to think he's out there…"

"Alone." Scott finished, "And we're the X-Men. A team. We don't leave people behind, and we don't leave anybody out in the cold. In danger."

"My thoughts exactly," the professor said, "And so, you understand why you can not put off talking to the boy any longer. He's in danger here, and if Magneto finds out about him, he'll be in danger wherever he is. We need him here."

Scott nodded. "Next time I see him. Next time I see him, he's going to be agreeing to be living here professor. I promise."

"Good," the older man replied, and once again pushed the simulator button. Scott and Xavier continued to watch training sessions for most of the day.

* * *

Morty stood in front of Magnetos desk, his hands grasping at his pockets- he hated this. This feeling of not knowing what to do with his hands. Not knowing if he should be standing stalk still or trying to relax. Trying to figure out what Magneto expected him to say- and what would be the most smiled on. Trying to befriend a murder terrorist.

"Pardon me?" Magneto asked in a weird form of surprise, "Am I delusional, or simply mad?"

"It's just… I don't know. I got offered this job, you see, a good one. At the gym. Cleaning and sorting mostly, but still a job. And I have to be there and six in the morning- which I'm okay with. That is," he stopped, "If you are."

"Continue."

"So it would get in the middle of my classes- and I get that you brought those teachers over here just for me, and not to say that I'm not grateful or anything, but I've caught up with my year and everything-"

"Get to the point," Magneto said, "I have people to kill."

"I want to go back to school. Like I said before, but now with a reason that wasn't incoherent rambling that started the second I walked into the room."

"Back to school," Magneto mused, "I suppose that it's possible. You _are_ caught up, even ahead in some areas. And my information suggests that people have been seeing you around town enough, with everything you've found you have time to do now."

Morty blushed silently, knowing that it was girly how much he enjoyed shopping now that these things had been opened up to him. Social functions were a blast, and in the end of all things he couldn't imagine going back to living the way he was.

"Mortimer," he said slowly, "It has come to my mind that were you born like this, with the choices you have now, you could have had a very… profitable life. And you've proven that you're using your new life to the best of your abilities. What held you back before, along with your mutation, was your choice of friends. My son, dear as he is," Magneto said sarcastically, "Is simply not the kind of person one chooses to associate with when trying to become a powerful being. Avalanche and the Blob were the same way. If you can promise, swear even, that your life won't fall back if you associate yourself with so many people your own age at school… I don't see why you can't go."

Morty ginned widely, and found it hard not jump the desk and hug the older man. "Thanks!" He said, and near skipped out the door.

Magneto watched him leave, repositioned his cape so that he could sit more comfortably, and frowned. Toad had seemed so pleased with his decision… and meanwhile he had been feeling almost, god forbid, proud. Fatherly. Something he hadn't felt since he lost Anya.

He turned to his paperwork with another frown; Pyro had blow up another chair in the lounge.

* * *

Meanwhile Morty continued to dance down the hallways, laughing at his success. Things were just… going so well! Weirdly well! On one level he was excited- but he knew it wouldn't last forever. "Might as well enjoy it though," he laughed.

"Enjoy what?" The voice of Sabertooth came from around the corner, and quickly the man came into view.

"Mags just gave me permission to go to school," Morty replied to the older man, whom he had learned to get along with. It was an odd relationship the pair had, but it worked weirdly well.

"Good for you kid," the cat replied, quickly carrying on, "But there's a special on Discovery channel right away- something about jungle animals. Wanna' watch?"

Morty nodded with yet another grin, everything was coming up roses right now. "I'll go and steal some popcorn from Pyro."

__

TBC


	14. 12th Chapter

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Morty  
_By Maikafuiniel_

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Authors Notes: Today is TheDreamerLady's birthday, and so comes another chapter! I want to apologise- it's really not my best work, but I wanted to give her a birthday present. :) Enjoy.

**Chapter 12**   
Kurt sat back in his chair, sighing deeply into his notebook as he listened to his teacher drone on about the second world war. It truth he didn't mind learning about history, but since he had come to America, whenever somebody mentioned WWII around him they always looked nervous. Like he was going to start spouting off about how Hitler was in the right or some crap like that. The teacher didn't help, staring at Kurt with a small frown whenever he took a pause from his reading.

"Ven vill zis class _end_?" he muttered up to the heavens with a small plea, "I zink zee friggen clock is going backvards by now!"

The class continued onwards though, and as it turned out he wasn't the only one who was board stiff as a rock. Lance Alvers sat at the back of the room, in the left corner, slowly drawing pictures of avalanches crushing different members of the X-Men as he pretended to listen to the lecture. On one level he didn't even know why he was here- he could have just as easily stayed home, and have done something constructive. Like yell at Pietro and Blob for being idiots.

That was always fun.

But for some reason the urge to come to school today at been almost overpowering. He hadn't even bothered to try and get the others to come with him; they would only go when they felt like it, or when they had something in particular planned for the X-Geeks.

Duncan and his gang sat in the other corner of the room, completely oblivious to the fact that there was a class going on at all. They were chatting quietly, and of course the teacher was showing blatant favourtism towards them by not doing anything. Jean, who sat just ahead of the group, was listening with half a ear.

__

"Where do you guys wanna' go for lunch break today?"

"Don't got any money," one of the jocks said, "Stuck here I guess, 'less somebody else is buying."

"You wish," another jock laughed, "We can just get some money off one of the juniors anyway. Anybody got an idea."

"I miss Wart-Breath," Duncan laughed, "He may have been a wuss, stinky, stupid, and just out right begging to be a punching bag, but you gotta' admit he was good at stealing. My main source of income, he was."

Jean shook her head sadly, and tried to ignore her boyfriend. It was hard, but she knew that when he really wanted to, when he really tried, he could be the perfect gentlemen. When he really wanted to, he could be the man she loved. It was just the time in between that he pissed her off.

And so the class droned onwards, thirty students bored to tears except for one Scott Summers. He was, of course, taking exact notes and graphs of everything that had been said and even hinted at. Never one to be called anything but meticulous, Scott felt he had an image to uphold being the leader of the X-Men. That and Jean might want to study-buddy him later.

He could always hope. At any rate, Kurt would likely try to pawn off his notes at the nearest opportunity, then Xerox them so that future generations could be as lazy as possible.

He shuddered. The humanity!

And suddenly, there was something different. For a perfectly average town in a perfectly average world (bar the mutant uprisings of course), something happened. There was a knock on the door.

The teacher stopped, and with the eyes of every student on him went to the door and opened it. The secretary was standing there, with a few forms and a pencil for the teacher to sign. When he finished, the secretary stepped aside and behind her was a boy. The students knew him from around town… Mitch, Michael, Morris… something like that.

Every X-Men in the class watched his every movement as he was led to the front of the room by the teacher, and even Lance took a long glare before going back to his drawings. "This," he said in a loud voice, "Is our most recent new student. Mortimer Toynbee. I hope you'll be nice enough to this one not to make him go running."

The sad thing was, he probably did hope that. The last new student had run off, his hair on fire, and his shoes trailing green slime- a present from the Brotherhood Boys.

The boy looked nervous up there, shooting glances at everyone Scott knew to be a mutant, and for a moment he wondered if this kid didn't have telepathic powers after all- "Don't worry," Scott said aloud, "I'll show him around during lunch."

"Thank you Scott," he replied, "Now, Mortimer, the only seat left is over there by Mister Alvers- hopefully you won't be contaminated."

For a moment everybody waited to see what Morty's reaction would be to this comment. Would he be shocked that a teacher spoke like that about a student? Angry? Think it was funny? Odd? But Mortimer just shrugged as if he were expecting it, still as nervous as ever, and took a seat.

* * *

Morty shrugged his backpack off, and left it beside his chair, facing his way. He trusted Lance like a brother, but he had only seen him during small whifs during the last month- and he knew him. Lance was a great guy, but if things were getting rough for him he wouldn't hesitate to steal anything he could get from his bag.

Not a few weeks ago he would have already been bored stiff with the class, commenting on how pointless it was- but having had tutors who actually taught him how to enjoy learning, and knowing he was going to have to keep his grades up to stay in school, he pulled out a notebook and began to take notes from where the teacher started once he was comfortable.

About twenty minutes into the class, the teacher stopped talking and mentioned that he had to go and get another text from the library. He gave the class a long look as though daring them to talk while he was gone, as if he would even know, and left. The moment he did everybody surronding him 'jumped' him.

"My name is Scott," the X-Men leader managed to get out first, "When the class is over, I'll show you to the lunch-room. You can sit with me and mine, then I'll give you a tour. You'll enjoy it- Bayville is an okay school."

A jock that was near him frowned and said, "Don't bother with Summers, kid. He's not exactly A-material. If you wanna' hang with us, that'd be cool. …You ever thought about taking a position on the football team?"

Morty just sat there as a number of kids stood around him, asking him questions before he had even answered the last one, and he was just stunned. He had seen them do this to other new kids of course, wanting to find out just how 'cool' a person was. Wanting to know about the new person in the midst- not quite out of paranoia from their confusing lives, but curiosity.

Knowing Magneto was going to hang his head if he didn't get a move on in getting into the X-Mansion however, he just nodded thanks to the jock. "I think I'll stay with Scott actually," he said apologetically, "He and I have already met;" he continued, and looking at Scott he said, "The mall- remember?"

Scott turned red at the mention of the incident, but at that moment the class lookout called a warning. The teacher was coming back.

Morty got comfortable again, but he could still feel someone staring at him. Lance. "Hey," he said quietly, "Um… Morty."

"Lance," was the stotic reply, "Seen you around town."

"Well yeah, I get out a bit."

"Not enough obviously," he returned, looking at the pale skin, "So. You're gonna' hang with Summers and his robin-hood group?"

"What do you mean?" Morty questioned, trying to play up his confusion.

"They're mutants you know," Lance replied, testing him and his response to the news, "Every single one of them. They live up in a mansion where they all learn to control their powers. Playing a backwards Robin-Hood. Taking from the people who stole it because they can't live without it, and giving it to people who wouldn't have even noticed it was gone."

Morty shrugged. "You got something against that?" he asked, testing Lance in the same way.

"They're mutants!" Lance returned vehemently, "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Not really," Morty said, "Not unless they prove their idiots too. They probably think they're doing the good thing," he continued, trying to sound as if he didn't have a side, "Maybe they don't realize what they're doing. Though that Wagner kid up there seems like an ass."

Lance nodded, not asking how he knew who Kurt was, or how he knew he was one of the X-Men. "I don't mind mutants," Lance continued, "Like 'em really. You'll probably find out why eventually. But those guys bring a whole new meaning to the term freaks of nature."

Morty nodded, but then went back to his work. Lance took the hint and went back to his drawings. And the rest of the class continued in just that way.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in the Science levels of Magneto's Base  
_Shadow took a long look at the boy- Forge. He had fallen asleep on his work table again, working until all hours of the night. Carefully he took the few papers that lay strew around him, before the boy managed to drool all over his work. Taking a long look at them, he sighed.

Close- but not close enough. The new programming aside, they were going to have to alter the sentinels in so many dramatic ways that the task almost seemed impossible at times.

He stared at the boy again, feeling discontented. It had been a full week since he had to be taught a 'lesson' in doing what he was told- and Shadow wasn't seeing any signs that his confediance would come back this time.

He almost felt guilty.

Putting the papers in a neat pile, he turned and left, his feet dragging behind him. He would let the boy sleep this one time, while he worked.

Everybody needed a break eventually.

__

TBC


	15. 13th Chapter

Morty  
By Maikafuiniel

Normally I would feel guilty for taking so much time before updating… but I'm not. Really. I'm in University now, and in my history class I'm reading about all these people who do these horribly, and stupid things. Compared to them, I'm an Angel.

Least wise, I'm never going to make a horse a senator- so I'm one up on the Romans.

Ah, and to the person who threatened me with an empty milk container… :) This one is for you, you know who you are.

To Clear Something Up  
The memories shtick- some of you don't get it. Alright. :) Todd has all the same memories as he's ever had- they've just been altered so that whenever somebody called him Todd, he remembers them calling him Morty, or Mortimer. The whole story about growing up in England and all, is something he made up as a cover story.  
His father- his father is simply named after the original Mortimer Toynbee, it isn't _actually _him from the comx's. I just took the name, and said that was his father.

**Chapter 13  
**Class ended quickly, and Mortimer was left standing in the middle of the room while Scott talked to the teacher. On one level he wanted to ask Summers where the bathroom was- so he could use his newfound fighting abilities to beat the prep up. On another level he knew Magneto would kill him for wasting this opportunity…

And the chance, a real chance at living a real life was just too great an opportunity to let slide. He wanted to hate himself for it, looking forward to living with the X-Men and all, hate himself for not wanting to go running back to the Brotherhood… But it was hard to want a hard life.

It was hard to not want real companionship.

Sure, Magneto's layer was great and all… but it was a secret base. That was it. It was a place for hiding out, but not much else. The guys were nice enough, though Pyro had a strange tendency to obsess over nicknames while he was around, and even Sabertooth had learned to accept him. So long as he didn't comment on the overpowering smell of blood after dinner time, and let the older man watch his nature shows, everything was good.

He had even went down to the science labs and talked to Forge a few times, before Magneto had gotten royally mad at him for it. The teen was doing his best to cope with being forced into working for the enemy, and he seemed extremely grateful for a chance to talk to somebody who wasn't going to turn around and torture him.

He had even tried to apologise for de-mutanizing Toad, before Mortimer had explained that he was weirdly happy this way, loath as he was to admit it. Learning wasn't hard anymore, bathing wasn't a chore, and nobody turned him away on anything about his looks. Hell, they embraced him. It was a dream come true!

Least wise, it would have been if Lance, Pietro, and Fred had been there to share it with him- but he knew better then to hope for something even better then what he had received. A chance at life.

And that was why he willingly waited for Scott after class, pushing away any lingering feelings of resentment that were still bubbling under the surface. His teachers had told him not to get emotionally attached to the subjects, he was going to have to admit who he was in the end after all, he just couldn't imagine how to go about not wanting what everybody else did.

"Come on this way," Scott said happily, breaking him out of his musings long enough to see the boy motioning towards the hallway, "We'll grab some of my friends, and go to lunch. After we can all give you a little tour of our school- it's alright, for a school and all."

"Yeah," Morty said shortly, "I wouldn't really know."

Scott raised his eyebrows in confusion, and waited for a response until finally Morty caved. "Home-schooled. I did grade nine in a real school," he made up, "But that was back home… England," he continued on his story, "But now I'm here and everything, and back there grade nine is still junior high, not high school-"

Scott cut off his ramblings as they moved through the halls, pushing past groups and flocks of students. Now this, he realized, was something he didn't like. Back when he was just Toad people moved for him. Sure, it was because people didn't want to touch him, but it didn't change the fact that it just made getting through the halls harder now.

Longingly he looked up on top of the lockers where he used to hop right over the students, but quickly wiped the thought from his mind. Weighing the pros and cons, it was obvious this was the life he was meant for. This was it; as good as it got.

"There's Jean," he nearly yelled over the hall din, "That's her locker. She's dating this guy from the football team, but she's my best friend."

"Stereotypical chit," Toad mumbled under his breath, "Tall popular redhead, dating hulking mass from the school team. Could we get anymore tellie?"

Scott, oblivious to the ramblings, pointed out another body among the group. "That there, the skateboarder- no, not that one, the black blonde. Yeah, him. He's Evan, okay kid. Obsessive over his sport though, I gotta' say. He's one of the best on the other hand, which kind of makes up for it."

"Alrighty," Morty said, trying his best not to feel claustrophobic.

"That there is Kurt Wagner," Scott kept going with the running commentary, "The blue haired kid. He's really sensitive though, he hates having anybody touch him- I mean, _really_."

Morty nodded his comprehension, but before Scott could continued he said, "So, lunch then?"

Scott smiled, as though everything was going his way, and pulled Morty along to show him the way to the lunch room. He went with this, even though he knew the way perfectly well, because he didn't want to mess the charade up so early. It didn't stop it from getting really annoying though.

_  
10 Minutes Later_

Morty sat at his table, nervously looking at the others as they chatted amongst themselves. Every once and a while one of them would throw him a quick, searching look (Jean most of all) as though they were trying to figure him out. …But without actually saying anything.

They tried to include him in the conversation, but as soon as they had sat down he had felt a blow of absurdity. The fact that he was here at all, talking to them at all, eating with them… he almost felt guilty for knowing he was actually there to spy on them.

Just a little.

His gaze wandered over to where Lance and Pietro sat- on the table, despite the protests of the teachers, and where Freddy was standing to eat his own lunch. He couldn't sit of course, lest he send the person at the other side of the bench flying. That, or break the bench entirely.

"So?"

His eyes flew back to the X-Men, each of whom was giving him a long look. "Pardon?" He said lightly, taking a leaf of lettuce from his salad and eating it nervously.

"Where are you from?" Kitty asked again, batting her eyes a few times (and confusing Morty greatly in the mean time), "Somewhere in England, right?"

"Um, yeah," he replied, "Nowhere interesting. I've been here for a few months though- schooling with my uncle. Great guy. Bit of a shut in though."

"That's too bad," Evan said, "But we've seen you out and around some- the mall."

Everybody gave a quick look at Scott who had turned quite red.

"So," Kurt concentred, shooting a nervous grin towards Scott, "Vhat are you into? Sports, movies…?"

Mort shrugged, not knowing quite how to respond. "I do some kung-fu, boxing, floor boxing… it's fun enough… Reading, I guess. Probably one of the only guys you'll ever find that really enjoys shopping for clothes. I'm training to be a helicopter pilot- it's pretty fun."

Kitty looked like she was about to comment, a wide smile on her face at the thought of this hot, new boy who hadn't said anything about a girlfriend, and his love for shopping- but before she could, Scott cut in again. "Hey, I have a pilot licence too," Scott smiled from across him, "Never done a 'copter though. Is it anything like a regular plane?"

"Never done a regular plane," Morty replied, still overcome with nervousness and the oddity of the entire conversation.

"Any particular taste in music?" Rogue asked from her corner of the table- the first thing she had said to him yet, and it sounded as if this were the true test of who he was in her mind.

"Rap. Punk. Rock, but not heavy metal. Can't say anything in particular- I do have a strange love for the bagpipes that I can't really explain though."

Rogue smiled, nodded, and went back to her food- Morty had the strange feeling that he had passed her test.

Nobody said anything for a full minute, and then suddenly… _WHAM!_

…Okay, not wham. Probably more like a boink.

Looking down beside him, on the floor, was a small milk container. It had obviously come from the Brotherhood Boys' table- but hadn't been aimed for him.

Before he could comment, a yell broke out from the other table.

"_FOOD FIGHT!_"

_  
In the office, thirty minutes later  
_Pietro said in his chair, fidgeting slowly with a smile. Lance frowned at him over the whole debacle, while Fred merely continued to eat his sandwich. "What the hell do you think you were doing?" Lance hissed at the blonde boy, "Mystique is going to kill us!"

"Yeah," Pietro said slowly, "But on the plus side, I think I have that new kid figured out."

Lance blinked three times slowly, trying to figure out just how the left hand turn on the conversation had happened, and Pietro continued. "Didn't you see him, over with the X-Geeks? He looked almost embarrassed! I actually almost felt sorry for him, being stuck with Summers!

"But on the plus side," he continued, "As soon as I started the fight, he got into it. Threw some pudding right into Summers face before anybody saw him. I think…"

"You don't think."

"Shut up, rock head. I think… he's Brotherhood material."

"He's not a mutant." Lance explained, as though talking to a very stupid three year old, "We would know."

"Why do you think they're so interested in somebody outside their clique?" Pietro questioned, "They ignore everybody else until it suits their needs- and their needs always means mutant war needs. He's a mutant, and they're trying to recruit him without scaring it off. I can just smell it!"

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Fine," Pietro shrugged, "Whatever. You want to be the leader, fine. But I'm telling you- either he joins us, or he doesn't. But I bet you anything that he's going to be the one to turn the tide of this entire war."

TBC


	16. 14th Chapter

**Chapter 14  
**Scott stood at the entrance to the school; Jean, Kurt, Evan, and Kitty standing behind him, watching as Morty walked away- presumably to wherever his uncle lived. The wide smile that had been plastered on his face the entire time he had been talking to the new boy was brushed away like chalk on a green board. He turned to Jean, frowning. "I don't like him," he finally admitted. "He seems nice enough- but the entire time I felt like he was hiding something major."

"He probably was," Rogue stated slyly as she walked up to the group, he pack slung over her shoulder, "Heck, _we _are."

"Yeah- but I don't think he had the urge to punch me the entire time I was talking to him." Scott frowned deeply as he watched the still retreating back, far along the side walk. "You don't think he picked up on that, do you?"

"The way you were acting, he probably thought you were hot for him." Evans laughed jokingly, "Seriously- you were kissin' up like he was the guy who got to choose whether or not you passed the grade. He's probably just freaked out now!"

Scott shrugged, and began to walk as the others fell in behind him. "Well I like him," Kurt said, "He seemed nervous, but it vas his first day at a new school. He vould make a good X-Man I zink."

"Jean?" Scott asked, "What do you think?"

"He's nice," Jean replied casually, not looking Scott in the eye, "Really nice. He _looks _healthy, says nice things…"

"Jean."

"I'm serious! I've never had to just figure somebody out like this before!" Jean exploded, "How do you all deal with this? This… this…"

"Trusting people based on what they say and not the emotions they unconsciously put off?" Rogue finished.

"Exactly!" Was the shocked reply. "I never knew… I mean, I understand that regular people had to do this, but this total black out… I just never knew."

Kitty shrugged, a happy little grin plastered on her face in what looked like a totally permanent way. "Like, I don't know," she continued, "He seemed really nice to me. Smart, cute, and ambitious if he's just a regular guy already going for a helecopter liscence. I mean, he's like, what? Tenth grade? Eleventh?"

"Tenth," Rogue answered, before jokingly adding. "And I'm betting that the fact that he's a hot guy who loves shopping does nothing for you, right?"

Kitty just smiled, but what surprised Scott, Evan, and Kurt was the fact that Rogue smiled right back. "He was pretty hot," Kitty replied girlishly, "And polite too."

"That was just nerves," Jean replied, but she was smiling too. "But at least he's showing that he _does_ have table manners. Unlike some people."

The three girls shot grins at Kurt, who shrank back in mock terror.

"At any rate, like," Kitty finished, "I like him."

"Me too," Jean answered, after a pause, "I haven't got a single reason to not trust him yet, which is pretty nice. I've never really dealt with that before."

"Me three," Rogue answered, surprising the group. When they turned off looks at her she simply smiled, and shrugged. "Hey- hot guy who loves shopping! What's not to want?"

The three men groaned.

_Meanwhile  
_Mortimer walked down the street, his pack slung over one shoulder and a textbook under one arm. The fact that he was actually willing to bring homework back to his room to work on surprised him enough; the fact that he actually thought he could complete it and be successful was a happy change though.

And at any rate, if he had trouble he could just wander around until he ran into a tutor.

Smiling to himself, he thought about how the day had went. It had started off a little scary, what with the jocks and preps actually wanting to know a little about him and his past… then the whole Summers thing, but the food fight had worn away any real fear he had left.

This was a school full of _kids_. Not military units, not brotherhood type gangs, not even X-Men. This was a bunch of teenagers who thought the way teenagers did. Sure, they might have been trying to dig through his psyche a little, but if there was one thing he was truly good at, it was keeping his past to himself.

Just Summers, the stick up his butt a little too big for his own good, some jocks, and some otherwise hormonal teenage girls. '_Mind,'_ he decided, '_It was pretty cool to have chicks hitting on me.'_

He had never actually had a girl hit on him before, and it became obvious pretty quickly that that was exactly what Katherine Pride had been doing. …And Rogue. And even Jean to an extent.

'_Come to think of it,_' he decided, '_Summers was being pretty nice himself._'

Laughing to himself, he walked through the doors of a rather desolate looking building. It had been a short enough walk to the industrial section of town, but the difference in the buildings and up-keep of the roads was obvious. The abandoned factory, with the door looking as though it was about to fall off, broken windows, and large fans that took up large sections of the walls looked as though they were all going to fall down on top of him at any moment.

Looking around carefully, he finally spotted a siloutte off to the side.

"'Bout time you got here, mate."

A tall, gangly looking red head walked out of the shadows, a lighter in one hand that was being opened and closed rythmicly, bright orange t-shirt, and a pair of faded blue jeans. "Hey John," Morty replied, trying to keep up the real names in case somebody was watching, "I thought Jesse was picking me up today."

Jesse was a random underling of Magneto- some little powers for making tiny hurricanes out of dust bunnies and what not, but nothing major. He had been chosen because he had never actually come up against the X-Men before, and therefore could not be recognized.

"The mechanics boy they kidnapped the same day they got hold of you" Pyro let loose a giggle, "He wasn't coping so well, and decided to make a bomb out of extra bit's and pieces. Everybody's alright, but there's some major clean up down there today. Not to mention that nobody wants to be there when the big guy decides to 'teach him a lesson', as he so calmly stated."

Mortimer shuddered at the thought- he knew Forge was having a rough time as it was, and Magneto pissed at him was not something he would want. Nearly whispering the words, "You think he'll live through the experience?" He turned back to the door to watch for anybody coming in.

"Sure, he'll live, mate," Pyro muttered, "But he'll sure as hell wish he wasn't. The way things are happening, he's either going to have to hurry up with his shtick, or kill himself. Magneto ain't gonna' wait much longer."

"He's hardly been waiting for a few weeks though," the other boy muttered, "Talk about no patience."

"Patience?" Pyro giggled again, "He's trying to talk over the world, Morty. He doesn't need patience- just a good lay."

Mort shrugged, and turned back to the door. "Well," he muttered, "I suppose we'll go to the mall or something for an hour, or else we'll just be stuck helping with the clean up. Maybe he'll just let me study or something…"

Pyro shrugged, still unknowing of his past life as Toad, and therefore not knowing of his ex-hate of school stuff. "Never knew one as smart as you," Pyro muttered as he took a smoke out of his pocket, "Gotta' wonder just why you do what you do."

"It's weird," he tried to explain, "But it's like bein' handed fools gold. Maybe it's not real, but it's a sight better then not having anything at all. I never really got the chance for a real education before; it's… interesting."

The fire bandit took a long drag of his smoke, and showed the other boy to his car. A bright, fire red convertible. Not that he would have laid a hand on anything else in a million years.

They drove off, wind rushing through their hair, for all the life of them feeling like regular teenage boys for the first time in their lives.

_Meanwhile… Again  
_Mystique stood in front of the trio, each lined up in front of her like a military squadron, tapping her foot impatiently. "And just what do you think you were doing in there?"

She was in her Principal Darkholme guise at the moment- no less terrifying then her regular blue self. None of the boys shook or trembled, but that was alright. She knew their lives depended on her at the end of the day, and that was enough power for now.

"Food fight?" Freddy muttered as he looked at the clock.

She sighed deeply, muttering that they had three days worth of detention, and waved a hand to the door, inviting them to leave. When they did she fell into her seat unceremoniously, and looked out her window to the field where the football team was practicing.

That was the fifth time in the last two days she had gotten them into her office- it seemed without their own little brother around to torture, the three of them were going out of their way to find new and ridiculous ways to get themselves into trouble.

She hated them. Really, she did. But it didn't change the fact that she was responsible for the little idiots. If things kept on this way, it was going to be worse trouble then she could manage. Drugs were not a far cry away, she knew. It would be Alvers first, who would be able to get it. He would get Freddy addicted, and then Pietro would start on the emotional blackmailing and physical wailing about how he was being abandoned 'again'.

Robbing had always been Toad's thing, but it wasn't a far stretch to imagine the others had already started to compensate the loss of fresh income from the little one. Sighing once more, she did what she had been loathe to do since she had started running their little house hold.

She set them each up a appointment with the school psychiatrist.


	17. Interlude 2

****

Interlude  
Forge sat at his work station, un-blinking as he stared hard at the screen in front of him. …There was something wrong. Defiantly. He could almost reach out and touch this tangible mistake.

Taking a moment to yawn deeply, he reached out and grabbed the calculator beside him as he started to go through the calculations.

After about forty minutes of staring at the screen he turned instead to stare at the calculator in shock. It had to be wrong.

Blinking several times to clear his eyes, he looked at the calculator again.

A one. A single one. He had forgotten to carry the damnable one.

Sighing deeply, he wished for the millionth time that he was back at home, the X-Men around him, bugging him for his attention into such matters as a broken toaster or crossed wire. He would hate it, but compared to this…

The door opened, but he didn't turn around to look and see who had entered behind him. Loud, heavy footsteps with a purpose… Magneto.

"Hello, Sir," Forge muttered, his voice soft and pained due to screaming.

The whole 'try and blow up the base with a bomb smaller then your average toaster' laptop hadn't been his best idea ever. Hell, it had turned out worse then the mishap with the one. And he had gotten good and punished for it too- electrocution this time.

Though, admittedly, it was better then being locked in an empty room with no light, for a week. Electrocution you could heal from- talking to yourself and your inner demons was a little harder to get over.

"How's the programming going?" Magneto asked simply.

"Right now, they aren't going to attack mutants specifically when turned on, but they wont specifically go after un-evolved humans either. They'll go after anybody. I just have to alter the programming a little more so they leave mutants alone."

"And that's it?"

"Then I have to rebuild one of the legs I used for the bomb- but other then that, they'll be ready."

"Good." Magneto replied, "You hurry up on that."

This time Forge turned, watching as Magneto walked out of the room. The door slamming behind him with a resounding clang. Yawning once more, he looked up at the clock. 32 hours with no sleep.

He wanted to feel guilty about what he was doing here, but he was too tired for even that now.

__

To be Continued


	18. 15th Chapter

**Chapter 15  
**Jamie smiled to himself as he kicked a random pebble on the ground, sending it flying into the air, and eventually back to the ground. It wasn't that he didn't_ like _school- it was just a whole heck of a lot nicer to be out of it, then in.

Jamie smiled to himself as he kicked a random pebble on the ground, sending it flying into the air, and eventually back to the ground. It wasn't that he didn'tschool- it was just a whole heck of a lot nicer to be out of it, then in. 

He knew he should be getting back to the mansion- but it always felt like he was the 'little one' there. He knew it was stupid, but he always felt so useless being the only one with seemingly useless powers in a mansion full of super heroes.

That was when he felt the rush of wind, a loud blaring sound of a car rushing past. It was a bright red convertible, and as young as Jamie was, he knew a nice car when he saw it. And this one was gorgeous.

It wasn't a long way off that they had to stop for a red light. In fact, it was close enough that he could see the driver and his passenger. It was Pyro- he knew that insane Aussie laugh, and bright red hair like he knew the back of his hand. Impossible to forget.

And the passenger… he had seen that boy before… wasn't he the kid everybody was trying to get to join the X-Men?

Were Magneto and his gang trying to recruit him as well?

Of course, there was always the possibility that he was just imagining things. The car was gone in seconds after the light turned green, and Jamie knew it was possible… well, whenever he told Scott about the sounds coming out of his closet at night, they said he was just dreaming. Whenever he mentioned that he might be useful on a mission, they said he was too young.

Whenever he tried to point out that something might be a danger, they told him he was imagining things. So maybe he was just imagining this… and even if he wasn't, nobody would believe him.

He was just Jamie after all.

Shrugging his shoulders, he found the rock he had kicked, and kicked it again. Whistling away, that was how he made his way down the street. No worries, no cares. Things, he knew, would turn out however they were supposed to. They tended to do rather well, even if he had nothing to do with it…

* * *

Lance rifled through his wallet, an angry sneer on his face that seemed to never come off nowadays. He had never really picked up on how expensive gas was- but then, he had never had to worry about where his next dollar was coming from. 

Mystique paid the bills around the Boarding House, sure. She bought enough food that they could get on rather comfortably, even though they were living in the same house as the infamous Blob. She even bought cable, as a once in a life time gift during Christmas a few years ago.

But there was no way in hell she was going to pay for his cars gas, or insurance. Not that he bothered with insurance, but now he had to wonder just how on Earth anybody could afford to pay for _both_.

He considered getting a job- once. Throwing away the thought with the logic that, if he had a job, he would have to drive there and waste most of his pay on gas to _get_ to the stupid job. Instead he stumbled down the stairs, wondering what in hells name Pietro was doing up at four in the morning anyway, and kicked the television off."

"What-the-hell-is-your-problem?" Pietro mouthed off, too quick for Lance to actually catch, "You're not going to the corner store now, are you?" he asked, "It's four! In the morning!"

"I need smokes," Lance replied with a mumble and a yawn, "Shit dreams, you know. And the headache to end all. I need some cash."

"Don't look at me," Pietro replied, turning back to the television, "I got nothin'. Went on three dates last night, and it tapped me out."

"Well maybe if you didn't have to take out three girls at fuckin' once-"

"Maybe if you didn't smoke away all your cash." Pietro replied snidely, "Get a job, if your going to bitch about it. Or go steal something."

"Tried that," Lance admitted lowly, as he flopped onto the couch beside his friend, "I only managed one book bag and a wallet before I was caught- and neither had anything worth anything in it."

Pietro shook his head, not quite mocking Lance, but close. "I tried as well- managed five wallets and two bags, and none of them had anything."

"How did Toad do this?" Lance asked rhetorically, "I mean, seriously. The whole thing of picking out your marks- he always got the best stuff, first try. I always figured, you know, all those rich pricks must all carry around cartloads of stuff. But no, people only carry like ten bucks on them at any given time. Toad could always pick out the rare ones."

"And I'm a billion times faster then he ever was," Pietro continued, "Yet _I_ get caught, and he doesn't."

"Not true," Lance replied, "He got caught all the time. He just managed to get away, too. Least now we know why he always came home so beat up."

Lance and Pietro both sat there for a full minute, before finally Lance stood up. "Where ya' goin'?" Pietro asked, "Bed?"

"Nah," Lance replied, shaking his head negatory, "I gotta' get some smokes."

"Thought you said you don't have any cash on you," Pietro muttered. "Weren't just trying to hop some cash off me, were you? 'Cause seriously-"

"Nah," Lance muttered as he grabbed his coat. "I got no cash- but there are still ways to get smokes."

Pietro shook his head sadly, finally beginning to miss their little green friend, before finally realizing what Lance was up to. Jumping to do the door, he stuck his head out of it and began to yell, "You're a crap thief, you know that?"

The only reply was the jeep revving up.

"You're going to get caught!" Pietro yelled out again.

And Lance was gone- Pietro thought about running to stop him, but decided… no. If Lance needed the damned smokes that badly, let him have them. Hell, maybe he would even share.

Okay, maybe not. But he _could_ be black mailed.

'_Ah,_' Pietro thought to himself as he fell back onto the couch, '_The life of a criminal_.'

* * *

It was five in the morning when Todd woke up from his good nights sleep- though to be quite honest, he could have easily rolled over and went right back into slumber land.

Stumbling out of bed, he turned on the radio loudly, and jumped into the shower- the bathroom door open, so that he could hear the morning news. Blah blah, endangered eagle nest found, blah blah, weather was nice as it always was, blah blah, robbery at a local corner store, blah blah, mutants are evil, blah blah, back to the eagle nest and how incredibly it was.

Nothing major.

Drying himself off with a random towel, Todd looked at himself in the mirror. Hair clean, body pail, no particular odour (even the natural forest smell had went away after a few days). He was ready and willing to start the day.

Grabbing a book from his shelf, he held it in front of him as he wandered to the mess hall and stuck some pop-tarts into one of the toasters. It was an interesting book- one that Sabertooth had actually given to him.

Rare, Dangerous Cats and Other Animals

Just the kind of thing he could invision the 'tooth reading- though honestly, he wouldn't have imagined him reading _anything_ only a month ago.

Pop-tart shoved into his mouth and book in front of him, he wandered out of the building and began his trek to the gym. It was the same, every morning. Go there, clean some equipment, and stand around looking tough while girls wandered by to see some of the working out clientele. Easy enough.

Him and some of the other guys would work out as well, when they had a spare minute, then shower and go out for coffee before school started.

It was amazing just how much could be doing between five and eight in the morning, while everybody else was still in bed trying to shove in those last five minutes of shut-eye. Idly he wondered just what time the X-Men got up, and decided he didn't care.

Thinking of X-Men…

Wolverine was walking down the street, close enough that if he called out Wolverine would definatly turn around and see him. Not that he would call out to the crazy, maniac Canadian of course- far too dangerous a pass time to be messing around with.

Instead he turned around, and went back to the coffee shop.

…It was _so_ nice to have a life that didn't involve death and destruction for once, and he was going to keep this up as long as possible.


End file.
